Perfection
by Queenbee19
Summary: Why can't I be Perfect? Why is it so hard? What do I have to do to reach Perfection? I'm Blake, Daughter of Zeus and Aphrodite, and all I've ever wanted was to be perfect.
1. Perfection

They said to write your hopes, your dreams, your fears. I grabbed a pink pen with pink ink and started to write my heart on a page.

I am pretty. I am funny. I am smart. I am strong. But I'm not the prettiest, or the funniest, or the smartest or the strongest. And that tears me apart.

I've always been competitive, to an obvious point. I had to compete with my siblings for my mothers attention. With 2 siblings and eventually a boyfriend it was hard to get moms time. It was hard, because Rylie was so perfect and mom loved Zander because he was Zander. I was just the other daughter, the one who pretended she was perfect but everyone was secretly annoyed with. I was the innocent angel who was secretly the troublemaker.

I had to compete with the world for dad's attention. Being the King of the Gods must be much hard of work because I got two calls a year: Happy Birthday and Marry Christmas. Love you too dad, glad to know your thinking about your precious angel. Glad to know I'm important. Glad to know you need me.

The thing I never admit, and even have to tell myself, is that I am scared. I'm a perfectionist, but not like a crazy one. I just want to be good at everything, I want to be a winner. Life is just a competition and I find the drive to win. And I want to be the best, at something. I'm scared that even know I'm always "winning" little things, that maybe I'm really not winning the big picture.

I'm scared that people don't really like me, I can be a real bitch sometimes. It's just that I get really protective of things I love. And I get really defensive when I'm talked about behind my back. And I have the drive to be in charge and I won't let anything stop me. And I put people down but not to bring myself up. I put people down because I feel like I'm bringing them down to my level.

Like my brother Zander, who I adore. You wouldn't guess it by the way I treat him, but I look up to him so much. And I'd trust him with my life if it came down to it. And I'm quick to fire and tear him down but its all in good fun for me most of the time. When it's not, then I bring him down because I'm jealous. But I could never stand him mad at me, and I'm the first one to apologize when he's angry at me.

I'm scared I have no one to talk to. If it wasn't for my sister's Rylie and Lizzie I would go insane. And I wonder if they weren't there for me would I have anyone to vent to? If my "true friends" are really true and really there for me. I would tell people how I was feeling if they would listen, and just ask. I would wear my heart on my sleeve if anyone would care or notice. I don't think anyone would.

700 thoughts running through my head, because mom always said to trust in love. I think I may be in love. That is why I'm scared. Scared that I'm not, and scared how to tell. Scared that I don't want to fall too hard because I know I will have to watch him die one day. Scared of sex, because I'm still a virgin. And I watch Zander every day mention how good he his and how much he loves it. I admit I'm almost jealous of him, but I'm to embarressed to tell anyone that. Because he's charming and deep down so sweet and I have to try hard to act like I'm better then him when I know I'm not. I honestly believe inside Zander is a good hearted guy with conflicting intentions a bad reputation. I wish I could say that I was mostly reputation.

And I'm scared that I'm not perfect enough for Michael. He deserves the best and thats what I'm trying to be. Its not a self-confidence thing I love myself to pieces, but I just don't know if he does too. And if he does and we have sex I'm scared that I'll mess it up and be awful and he'll get mad and leave me. And then I become scared because I wonder if thats all I mean to him. And I'm scared that he likes me a lot but doesn't love me. And then I become scared that I have so many fears that are always in the deep pockets of my mind but I push them away because I'm embarrassed of my fears.

"Each day is a gift, its your job to untie the ribbon." I'm terrified that through all my fears I'm stoping myself from untieing the ribbon. Instead of opening up the opportunities in front of me, I would rather spend time fixing myself before open it just in case. Just in case I mess up the opportunity, because I'm afraid of doing something stupid in an attempt to cure a fear when really I just made it worse.

Confession 1, I don't want to be a blonde anymore. A lot of pretty girls are blonde haired and blue eyed and I don't want to be in that category. I don't want to be a Princess Blake limited edition Barbie doll. Most blondes are cute, some blondes are hot, few blondes are sexy. And maybe if I was sexier, I would be more grown up. And more mature. And me and Michael could get more serious because I want to cherish the little time we will have together. Its not guaranteed he's like "the one" but if he is: a demi-god lifespan is nothing when you're immortal. So maybe being a sexy brunette is the way to go, see if he likes it and notices. Being a blonde was too easy, pulling off brunette would be a challenge.

And confession 2, is that I'm afraid of what I'm bad at. I don't do things I know I fail at. I'm not a poor sport, I just hate to lose. So I'm afraid of having sex because I could be bad at it and embarrass myself. I guess I'll admit, public humiliation to me is not like forgetting a speech, no its losing in front of people. Not because I care the slightest what most of them think about me. Because I care if the one's I love think less of me.

So those are my fears. Messing up love because of my stupidity. Not being liked because of my personality, but people not telling me to spare my feelings. That people don't know how much I adore them, and that the feeling isn't mutual. That my heart could be worn on my sleeve and no one would take a second glance. That I'm going to be bad at something I've never tried and risk someone thinking of me less because of it. That people don't really need me.

My hope, is that I can overcome all of these. And maybe getting over fear would make me a winner. Then I could say I was the best at being Blake. But right now Blake is under construction, big time.

I hope that the beauty that is love is still possible like mom says. And that even know I am immortal there will be someone out there for me to spend forever with. Its not like I have to get married, I don't need a wedding. I just want to experience the moment when you realize you love someone. When you realize that everything is ok when your with that person. I want it to be like in the movies. I want the "I love you" to be magical. And I hope and pray that it won't be taken away a few sort years after.

My dreams are simple. I dream of love that lasts forever. I dream of hope that never dies. I dream of never being afraid of anything anymore. I dream of showing my self-confidence without being self-centered. I dream of perfection without having to be perfect. Competition without a nessisary win.

I dream of being the prettiest, the funniest, the smartest, and the strongest. But only in comparison to me. Because the only person in the long run that I ever have to make happy is myself. I don't want to have to be jealous every time Rylie does something admirable, or Zander gets another girl to fall in love with him. I just want to be perfect by the standards of me and my imperfections compared against no one.

They said to write your hopes, your dreams, your fears. With my pink pen I did, and read them through. And I decided that non of my fears, hopes, or dreams define me. Because the definition of beauty is peace in perfection. And I am perfect by my own means.


	2. Ribbon

When I was a little girl, my mother used to take my shinny blonde hair and weave in beautiful ribbon into elaborate braids. She said the ribbon was for love, beauty, and strength. And when I got older, maybe 13, on special occasions I would go into my silver ribbon box and braid my own hair. I would take my ribbon and weave it in, reminding me to have strength, love, and beauty. My ribbon was my perfection.

When I came to camp, and I was older. I think I was 15. I wore my ribbon the first day, but I tied it into a simple bow. I curled my hair and gathered from the two sides and the top, bringing the blonde waves together and tieing the bow in. I let the rest of the curls fade under my hair. That was the day I was sure my life was over, my mom decided to force Rylie and I to go to camp. To be outdoors. To do something for a change. That day I wore my ribbon for strength. That day my ribbon made me look beautiful. And that day I found my first love.

I walked over the hill with my sister, my arms crossed and my lips in a pout. I didn't want to be here and I wasn't going to pretend I did. After an exchange of complaints we stalked down Half Blood Hill, sun shining in my eyes. I was determined to get myself out of this awful idea. Find whoever was in charge and make them let me go home. Then I noticed a boy holding a water gun.

He looked my age, maybe a year older. His deep hazel eyes reminded me of dark amber. He had chocolate brown hair that brushed the tips of his ears. He looked pretty tall, pretty strong, pretty hot, and pretty much up to no good. I looked to Rylie with a eye roll. Despite the fact he looked hot and ripped, he was holding a water gun. Obviously a kiddy toy. She in turn tried to give him a flirty wave. But the boy just smirked, and within a matter of seconds my white floral shirt was drenched wet and you could see right through to my neon pink bra.

I didn't take it lightly, neither did Rylie. And after a few moments of us yelling at him for getting us wet, he taunted us back asking what us Aphrodite girls would do about it. We responded by him being knocked to the ground, soaked in water, and shocked by yours truly. He wasn't fazed, and got up introducing himself as Michael. Little did I know that name would be running in my head for a while. He complimented Rylie and I, said we were hot, and even had the nerve to wink at me. I pretty much ignored his attempts until Michael walked over to me.

He kissed me. Right on my lips. He touched me. Wrapping his arms around me. It had been one of my favorite days of my life. Because it was a surprise, I didn't make a move or anything. I didn't flirt with him, I didn't even give him much of a smile. I didn't deserve it. He had came up, squirted me with a water gun, and then took it upon himself to become my first kiss. Then he told us to have fun at camp, winked, and walked away. It was perfect.

That night I laid in bed, wondering what I had done to deserve this luck. I remembered I had worn my ribbon, the one I saved for special days, and it had given me everything I needed.

Later it was our 3 month anniversary. I had nervously got ready, dressing up in a simple light pink dress. The shimmery skirt nicely reflected light when I twirled, and the top was a simple sweetheart. But the dress was needing something, and I got out my silver box. I grabbed a ribbon, and tied it around the waist of the dress into a pretty bow. It was perfect. And that night was perfect. He had taken me to dinner on Olympus, and it was magical. The ribbon had done its job again.

Then my life took a turn, and my siblings and I were assigned a quest. I wanted out, I tried everything. I pretended it wasn't about me. I tried to hide. But I knew I had to go. I was scared. I was terrified. If one of us failed we would all die. Death was never something I thought about, being immortal, and the concept scared me.

So before I left on my quest, I opened my box once again, and braided my hair like my mother had when I was a little girl. I took a deep breath, and said my goodbye to Michael. It wasn't tearful, I refused to cry. And Michael wasn't the crying type. And he kissed me. He pressed his lips to mine. He touched me. Putting his arms first around me, then some other places. Then I said goodbye, and he said goodbye. And I touched my ribbon for strength on my quest. For beauty always. And to remember those who I loved at home, and to trust those I loved who were with me.

The ribbon went with me throughout the quest. We were sent to retrieve Cupid's Bow. And mom had told us before we begun that love is the most dangerous weapon there is. I didn't know what she meant, but we went through the glittery doors to face our fates. When I appeared, I was back in time. I was sent to retrieve a pearl necklace from my half-sister Marilyn Monroe. I met a guy, named Michael, and he lead me to Marilyn who was in a private box at a Red Sox Game. She was more pretty in person, and handed me one of her pearl necklaces. Then I was sent into the music video of Michael Jackson's Thriller. It was insane, I was dressed as some sort of dead beauty pageant zombie for the video. And by the end, Michael had given me one of his silver gloves. All I could think about, was why there was so much Michael in my life, and if that was a sign from mom.

Ending out quest, I was reunited with my siblings. We fought Blackbeard for the last piece of our map. And I made a slight mess up, electrocuting Blackbeard but also my brother. Then we made our way to the Parthenon, met my half-brother Hercules, and my sister ended up getting a ride on his pegasus. In the Parthenon, we fought a 100ft tall, 7 headed cat named Fluffy, which somehow decided it would be nice if it poisoned me. But in the end, we made it back. Apollo fixed my poisoned arm, which had been slowly killing me. And we returned the bow. And I had developed a new fear of cats.

The quest was a success, and I came back to Michael. My ribbon was slightly worn from the quest losing its delicate perfection. But it had kept me strong as I fought, kept me beautiful through the end, and kept my love it tact.

But tonight, I was looking for my ribbons. My silver box that held ribbon of every color. I couldn't find it. I was going to wear one before the party. The party at Chance's cabin, the only son of Dionysus here. The girls were coming to the cabin to get ready with me in minutes and I couldn't find it. This was when I was going to announce my goodbye to blonde. And I was going to try, and figure out how to move on with Michael. Tonight was the night I was going to try something new. But I couldn't find the ribbon, and I decided to go without it. I was a big girl now. It was only there for luck right?

But tonight was awful. I had met Chance on the dance floor. And he mentioned he would've taken me upstairs if I wasn't taken. And I blushed, because I was a virgin. And because I remembered about Michael. And I thought, for a moment, about my fears. And I thought, for a moment, if I could have sex with Chance first I would know what I was doing with Mike. And I thought for a second, that it wasn't a terrible idea. Then I stopped thinking. I kissed Chance.

Zander tried to pull him off, and instantly I was angry. But deep down I knew he was trying to stop me from what I was getting myself into. But I didn't care, I was more motivated to do it just to annoy Zander. So we went up to Chance's room using the back staircase. But we didn't do it. I went back to thinking. I went back to remembering. I pictured Michael's face if he ever found out. That was enough to start thinking again.

But the night had turned worse. Michael had found us on Chance's bed. I told him we were just talking. He believed me. He trusted me. He led me out of the room and pulled me into a kiss. I was guilty. So I spilled, I told him everything. I told him of my fear of sex. My fear of embarrassment. My fear of letting him down. And I hoped, he would see me. He would see how imperfect I was when I tried to be perfect.

He beat up Chance. Chance had broken ribs, and a broken arm. I was broken in guilt. Guilt that Michael was mad at me. Guilt that Chance was hurt because of me. Guilt that this was my fault. Guilt of what I had done. Or what I almost did. I looked to my hair, my brunette hair. And felt the absence of my ribbon. And I needed it. I missed it. I needed strength to get their forgivenesses. I needed beauty, but beauty on the inside to admit when I was wrong. Admit my imperfections. I needed love, from Michael.

But then I thought, how I relied so much on my ribbon. How every-time something special came up I needed the ribbon with me. And I decided maybe there was a reason I couldn't find it. Maybe mom had given me my ribbons for reasons. Maybe the strength, was growing up. Becoming a more mature girl. Maybe the beauty was realizing that beauty on the outside was only half the battle. Maybe love, was the love we shared. The love that there will always be someone who loves you even if their not there. Maybe the ribbons were there to help me grow up.


	3. Barbie

Introduction/Disclaimer

Hey, I guess I forgot to do this in other chapters but I'll do it now. Disclaimer, I do not own Percy Jackson/Camp Half Blood. And the characters are based off a RP, and made by Avidbookreader14,Can'tBeatCandor,LilacDusts, and xoxo starry-eyed. Please read my sister story Broken by Can'tBeatCandor about Blake's sister Rylie. And please please please Read and Review. I guess your reading now, but PLEASE REVIEW. Any comment means a lot to me. Thanks! Ok now you may proceed to reading Chapter 3: Barbie.

I'm a barbie girl, in a barbie world. Bright blue eyes, perfect body, perfect sun-kissed skin. Living in a barbie Dreamhouse with Barbie siblings. Am I the only one who feels superficial?

The Aphrodite Cabin are the jewels of the camp. We're the pretty people, the popular girls, the barbies. We're the stupid ones, the bubbly ones, the most likely to be supermodels as our life plans. Its really disheartening, that that is all the camp sees us as.

And me, like every other little girly girl, played with Barbies. At one time I would dress them up, and comb their hair. I would play with my sister and our Barbies would live in their dream houses. Our Barbies had their Ken's and would go on romantic walks and dates. I loved Barbie, I really did. I almost looked up to her. She was skinny and pretty. And her life was so perfect it was amazing. And I always wanted to be perfect, and a winner, and Barbie was just that.

Until I got older, and realized that Barbie was as fake as you could get. She was anorexic, too thin to be healthy. And her life was so perfect it was scary. And lets be honest, she was made of plastic. I resented Barbie, jealous of the fake life she lived. But I wanted nothing to do with her, I didn't want to be like that. I wanted to be perfect, but that perfect was unreal.

And when I got to camp, I was called a Barbie. I started to take it as an insult. Just because I was blonde haired, blue eyed, and a daughter of Aphrodite. I was considered "one of those girls". I was skinny, and pretty. And I had a Ken named Michael, not that he was perfect or into clothing. And we went on romantic walks and dates. And my camp life was oddly perfect. I just didn't want to be thought of as something so fake.

I tried to break it. I didn't want to be thought of as a Barbie. But I couldn't figure out how to do it without not being me. I was perfect weight, perfect completion. There was no reason to change. I had a perfect bad boy boyfriend, who my parents hated. Why would I change Michael, he was everything I wanted in a guy. I was pretty, obviously. And I didn't want to be ugly. And just because camp life was perfect now, didn't mean it would stay perfect later.

So I gave in, decided to embrace the Barbie. I decided, if I was going to be called that I wasn't going to let it get to me. I took it as a compliment. If Barbie was perfection, then I was doing something right. And my goal of being the best at something was on its way. And my new goal was to be more like Barbie. But I wanted to be the Barbie on the inside, not out. I wanted to be nicer. I wanted to be generous. I wanted to be well, good-er. And I considered being a brunette a bridge into change. I looked at Barbie as perfection, and I always had to be better to live up to the name I was being called. I decided I could focus on the bad of being called that, or focus on the good. And whatever the bad was I wanted to work on it. It gave me a goal on what I needed to fix. What I needed to fix to reach perfection.

If Barbie was perfection in a little girls mind, then superficial and fake was what the world had taught us to be. Blonde hair, blue eyes, skinny and sexy. But if you take away what she looks like, she taught us dreams, work, and results. She showed us you can have a job, and be good at it. She told us you could be President, or a doctor, or a lawyer. She told us you'll find the perfect guy for you. And she told us beauty is inside and out. Barbie may be anorexic, and made of fake plastic. But Barbie isn't always a bad thing.


	4. Wish

Roses are red. Violets are blue. Angel's are miracles, beautiful perfect Sunday mornings. Grass tickled with dew.

Being in love is when the world gently fades at even the mention of their name. An angel in love is like watching crystals in the ocean at dusk or at dawn. It is when the stars are sparkling and the gods are smiling down at you and you feel every moment is perfection. Love is when you can't describe the overwhelming feeling when your lips touch. When butterflies are still dancing in your stomach and every second is savored. You would give, if you could, the world to that person. For that person. To be with that person. Being in love is a dream.

Love at first sight is real. As real as the pastel sunset on an autumn night. Delicate, warm, soft, beautiful. It is rare, like a gemstone, but savory. It is a moment you wished was captured on photograph, because it would never be lived again. It is something replayed in your head for the rest of your life. Something you never forget. It is magical. First love is magical. The first "I love you" when the fragile words escape young lips. The bubbly feeling that keeps you glowing for days. Glowing, radiating. Young love is the same magic, the magic of pixie dust and glass slippers. The magic of sneaking out at midnight and throwing pebbles at bedroom windows. All love, any love, is magic. Pure magic. All love, love, is infinite.

That is what I write of love. I am not in love, and have never been. I am angel with wings poised to fly and find the voice that calls. I am beautiful, independent, and strong. And I know there is things to think about because love is beautiful and dangerous.

A broken heart is the blown out sun. The word has turned cold and dark and light shall never pass through again unless we will it too. Sweet miracles of life can happen and may find a way to dance back into the sun and refuel the world. It may never be the same again, it may stay forever slightly duller. A broken heart is a nightmare. But the ability to move on from the broken mirror pieces lying on your floor as you touch each piece cracking your hands with red staining the carpet, is how you prove yourself. Love is the most powerful thing, and to over come lost love is simply letting go of all that matters and trusting that if it was meant to be that it will come back to you. Letting life fly into the wind, and if it wills to visit again then it shall come around when the time is right.

Roses are red, violets are blue. I write of love as if I actually had a clue. Young girls who have never been in love. Young girls who dream of the prince who they are sure who will come. A young girl who is about to cross over, and no longer be a young girl. A young girl who may not be as young as she thinks. A young girl who realizes she is may be in love. Realizes the love she writes of is true, and real. I am no longer a young girl dreaming of love. I think am in love.

I figured out it was that night. The night I broke free from my dependence of silver ribbon. The night I decided not to think. When I almost made a mistake I would deeply regret. The night where someone took the punishment for my stupidity. The night I thought I lost him. The night I realized how much he meant to me. The night I figured out I loved everything about him. That night, meant everything to me. Because that night was everything.

Well, I figured it out 30 seconds ago, that it was love. As I sat down, writing of the love that I had been dreaming of. When I realized I had a love story of my own. I give to you my story.

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Blake. She was beautiful, very beautiful. She was a Princess in her own mind. And she was loved. She didn't know how much she was loved, she was afraid of the love not being mutual. She loved. She loved strong and loved passionately. She loved deeply. But as she got older, the only love she hadn't figured out was her boyfriend. She knew she loved him, but she wasn't sure if she actually loved him. Loved him in that way. The way that if you did you would know. Until that little Princess Blake tried to think. And tried to fix a fear of failure. She thought, about doing something she knew deep down wasn't right, but up front sounded like a good idea. Just to make something else perfect. But she didn't. Because she knew how much it would hurt him. She thought that his feelings were more important then her need of perfection. But still, when she came clean he was still hurt. She told him everything, and tried to explain what had went through her head, but she couldn't without sounding insane. And once she realized what she had done, even if it was just a few kisses, the guilt she had felt was different then other guilts. The pit in her chest was pulling on her, even after he had forgiven her. The pit grabbed her inside, and pulled her deep bringing her into thought.

So she thought about everything. She laid her thoughts out all in her head trying to figure out what was bothering her. And she thought of how she felt when he was mad at her. Michael wasn't the mad type, he never yelled at her. He might have been a bad boy on the outside, but truly he was one of the sweetest things. And when she thought, about him not forgiving her, she couldn't. The thought of no more of his warm hugs. Or not smelling his shirt every time they were up close. His kisses, the romantic ones, and the ones as spontaneous as their first. Or even just the thought of never seeing him look at her that way again. It was enough to shake her. Enough to make her for once, really deeply sorry. For once, being able to admit every fault she had flat out to him, because she felt like he would listen. And not judge. And still think of her the same way. Confident that he would still care for her. Confident that it would be trust.

The girl, she thought hard. She thought of everything her mother ever said about love. She thought of the way her brother Zander looked at Lizzie. And the way he talked about her, despite their breakup. And Michael. And the way her heart skipped beats when he winked at her. And the way every moment with him was perfect. No matter what they were doing, it was perfect. And every second was savored. And the butterflies, and the feelings when they kissed. And everything that mattered to her, the petty things, wouldn't matter. She could live forever, she was a goddess. But she thought of all of the things she would give up to be with him, everything. She thought of how much her heart would break if he left her, and when the unspeakable happened, and he died. And when she realized, everything she was thinking, had meant something. She wrote. She wrote everything she could think of about love. She wrote of true love, love at first sight, heartbreak. And then she wrote, she wrote it and realized as she wrote. She was in love.

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Blake. She was beautiful, very beautiful. But she didn't care. She was a Princess when she was with her Prince. And she loved. She loved strong and loved passionately. She loved deeply. And the one she finally figured out, she loved him. Michael.

So I was in love. Cool. I guess. I mean I didn't know what else to do. I wrote about it. I wrote myself a little love story. But I wasn't sure what you did after you realized you loved someone. I was honestly so excited, that it had finally clicked. We had been dating since the first day I came to camp. The lucky day I wore my silver ribbon braided into my blonde hair. The day I almost lost him was the day I curled my brunette hair, ribbon-less. It was almost poetic. Actually it was so poetic I wanted to cry. I mean I was a true romantic, I was waiting for something like this to happen since I was a little girl. So I thought the only thing to do now, was to tell him.

I glanced over at the clock, which showed 3:33. It was lucky. So I closed my eyes. I made a wish. I made a wish of love, right before I was about to tell someone I loved them. 3,3,3 for the 3 words I was about to say. But I wouldn't say the wish out loud, I whispered it. I hoped mom could hear it right now.

I took out my phone, and dialed Michael Grace's number. It rang three times, before I heard him groggily pick up. 3 Times had to be lucky.

"Michael?" I asked into the phone, my voice was the quiet tiptoe of a powered pink ballet shoe. I didn't want to wake my siblings, but if I did they would understand.

Michael was quiet for a second. I heard a yawn and the rustling of covers moving around. He had told me he forgave me after that night. The night. But I knew I was walking on thin, thin ice. I knew he was probably wondering why I was waking him up and hoping it better be a good reason. "Yes babe?" he finally asked with a sigh. I think he tried to sound nice, but you could here the creeping of irritation in his voice battling with the gentleness.

" Mike, Michael" I said taking a deep breath. It was real quiet. We let the silence sit between us, looking around us, and taking in the moment. I was scared to say anything, scared to exhale. I could feel butterflies coming in with the chilly wind from the open window and dancing around me. Blowing my hair with it. I could feel the lingering of the nothingness. I could feel an exhale.

"I love you." I said it. I said it. I said it. The words. 3 Words. What had been keeping me up until 3 am for gods no why. I felt relief, I felt something lifted off my chest, I felt fear. Because he was silent for another moment. And I didn't want it to be ruined, or think of what he would say back. There was a small crack in my heart, from fear, that was taunting me saying that he could do the unthinkable. He could say "thats great" or just hang up on me, or fall asleep. Or he could break up with me right there. But love was trust, he trusted me at the party and I broke that. But I still trusted him, and I trusted him I really did. I was confident, no longer scared. And if he didn't love me back, then it would be what was meant to be. If it was and he didn't feel it now, then it would fly back to me catching a stray wind and coming back when it was time. I wasn't afraid. I wasn't going to let myself be afraid. There was no reason. Fear was just shattered trust struggling to put itself back together with glue.

"I love you too." he breathed back into the phone. And I felt the most wonderful thing I had ever felt in my life. Something I wouldn't be able to relive, but yet I knew I would feel it again. I smiled, the brightest smile I ever had. I knew what I was feeling. I felt loved. For once, I felt whole heartedly loved. I could sense him smiling on the other end. Even know I couldn't see his face, I could.

So we didn't say anything more. Because we didn't need to. 3 words were all we needed. At 3:33, I had experienced first love. And it was perfect. Perfection, maybe, was something reached when you had someone with you. No one person was perfect, but two people together? Maybe. We said nothing else, and eventually hung up. Not because we were sick of the silence, because we both got the same feeling. We clicked off at the same time. It wasn't plan, we just felt it. Maybe perfection was something you felt, not were. But whatever perfection was, it had just happened.

I made a wish, and my wish came true. Roses are red, and violets are blue, but the love I feel keeps me up thinking of you. I wrote my story, and the ending was exactly what it needed. The lose ends of my love story were tied, with silver ribbon. And little Princess Blake? She was happy, because she was loved. Her strong love, was mutual. And what happened next, was left for the future and fate. But as for now, it was a happily ever after.


	5. Enchanted

The moon had a radiant glow, as a somnolent lullaby played in the foyer. I took a small breath, taking an last look in the mirror at my shimmery makeup. Then to my iridescent gown, taking a twirl watching the fabric encase me in a glittery flurry. I stopped spinning, as a little soft laugh escaped from my delicate pink lips. Then I sighed, looking up at the incandescent light on the mirror. I smiled, a knowing smile. Smiling at my self, at the moment I just had to myself before making my grand entrance. I straightened my crown, moving a opulent dark curl, before taking another breath. Then I walked out of the bathroom door, into the dimly lit ballroom. I smirked, listening to the tintinnabulation of heels clicking against the polished floor. It was perfect.

I couldn't help but smile, even if I was dreaming, I was undeniably happy. The glee in my chest, was something I couldn't describe. Something that crudely wanted to keep me up at 4am. But I couldn't be mad at the feelings, it was almost as if my mom was blessing me. But I didn't feel exceptionally pretty or anything. I just felt, happy. Blissfully happy. And content. And lucky. And just, not the way I usually was. It was hard to explain. Even trying to write it down, writing in this new found journal I guess I had decided to keep. I guess this was the feeling I had described when I wrote of first love. Because I was still on a rush from that moment, and peacefully slipping in and out of consciousness.

Electric shocks ran through my body as Michael looked at me with his resplendent smile from across the room. It was almost a different feeling, then what I usually felt when I had captured his gaze. But tonight it was enchanting. As I elegantly and slowly made my way to him. I was taking in the symphony of music playing, and the opulent ballroom. My dress clung to my body, in a way that was very becoming, as I moved inhaling the redolent smells of expensive cologne and evocative perfume. I looked to Michael, almost to him, but he had surreptitious look in his eyes as he made contact with a unoccupied corner, with dark shadows and perfect privacy. My voltic blue eyes darted first to the corner, then back to Mike, getting the message. I ever so subtly changed my path.

I tossed again, engulfed in a fluffy conforter. I tried again to get comfortable, and failed. And I had to sit up and take in a breath, quickly jotting down what I had dreamed of in my journal. Yet again, trying to piece together what my dream was trying to tell me. My eyebrows knit together in concentration, trying to remember every detail exactly how I dreamed it. From the slow, dreamlike song playing in the background to the crystalline detail of the crown I had been graced with. I wanted to think, more about why I was there or what was the purpose of this dream. My eyelids felt heavy again, and I didn't want to put up a battle with sleep. One I knew I would lose. I wasn't one to lose, so I didn't compete.

We were in a dark corner, where no one would find us in the cacophony of noise in the ballroom. We were too hidden off from the party anyways. The tessellated floor made me feel dizzy, so I looked up from the ground and met Michaels dancing eyes. It started with a kiss, a slow pretty kiss. Michael had slowly had me against one of the walls, his arms encompassing my delicate frame. His hands ran up and down my cold arms in a soothing way. It was, enchanting. The kiss deepend, and it slowly went from childhood innocence to something darker. The glimmer in his amber eyes which I had thought once was cute with mischief, was slowly becoming more then that. But lust.

I woke up again, scribbling down again what I could remember about the scene. How my mood had slowly turned form tranquil to my heart beating a tad bit faster. I had to take a deep breath before regaining composure. My dream was slowly turning into a nightmare, one I didn't want to continue. The symphonic lullaby that was once in background of my mind was turning into a twisted satire. There was a do not cross line all over this, and for once I didn't want to flirt with it. But I didn't have a choice, and my subconscious hit play.

We couldn't stop, he couldn't stop. The once soothing murmur of Michael whispering nothings to me was no longer soothing. It graced my ears as forced, heartless. The kisses were getting lazy, and moving from where they began: safely planted on my lips. They were dark, like he knew he would regret them later. Yet in all of this he was still charming. They trailed down my neck, as my heart slowly started pick up pace. The words, they were no longer being sweetly whispered. They were sexy deep murmurs without out a trace of love. I wanted him to stop. This wasn't like him. The glamour of the night was being ruined by this less then perfect moment. They were down to my collar bone, and the faint smell of sweat and salt had burnt my nose. We were too close together, too much body heat.

I jostled around in my covers again, not liking this anymore. My head was starting to hurt, and I fought against the dream. But I was being forced to finish it out. I slowly reached for my notebook, jotting down what I had just seen. Painfully focusing to relive it because I knew how fast I would forget in the morning. It would be almost as if my dreams never happened, but I had a feeling this one would stick with me for a while. I battled like a solider, pushing to stay awake. Yelling at the pulsing headache in my head to leave me alone as consciousness and I went to war. It was a war of attrition. I lost another battle, but I hadn't lost the entire war yet.

I had to stop this, because I was almost at the point of getting scared. "Mike, Mike baby." Inside My voice shook like a plead, but I kept it to a sexy purr. He stopped what he was doing and instantly reverted his eyes to my face rather then my chest. I was the center of attention, focal point of his eyes but he didn't speak a word. "Babe, we should stop. Please, lets go back out and dance." I spoke with an attractive elegance. It was as if the words rolled off of my tongue without me thinking much of them. I was captivating him, enchanting him. It was working, as I batted my glittery lashes at him at an attempt of innocence.

I was up again, through the routine of writing my dream. I realized the fight was pointless, and I waved my red flag in surrender. It was like a gravity pulling me to experience this terrible nightmare. Usually I had some sort of realm over my subconscious , so I knew this was the power of someone meddling in my thoughts. Hooking me with she sparking beauty in the beginning and keeping me in the tornado till the bitter end. Eyelids closed again, for what I was hoping the last time until the sweet morning.

Michael looked to me, his eyes dull. This was not the Michael Grace I knew. It was as if he couldn't hear me anymore. I think I saw a quick twitch, like he was debating what to do. It was almost as if this was scripted, and me charm speaking wasn't apart of the script. And whoever was the producer behind this dream was yelling into Mike's ear, feeding him his new lines. Michael was a puppet, the director the puppetmaster.

His new script, involved him grabbing me tighter, pushing me against the dark wall rougher, and kissing me harder. I no longer had the desperate option of pushing him off, he had thought faster holding both hands above my head as the kiss was deepened. The bass in the music got dangerously low, and the eerie lighting got darker, to the point all I could see was a light outline of a shadow behind Michael's dark figure, I snuck a peak at the tessellated floor even when I knew I shouldn't, which made me furiously dizzy. And with a heartbreaking crash the crystal tiara on my head had fell to the grown shattering into millions of pieces that would never be reconnected. It only took one break to be permentaly broken.

It happened in seconds. He was tearing at my dress, wilding striping away my innocence with the luxe fabric. I tried to speak again, to use my sweet voice to stop him, but my voice was just silent protests where no one was listening. Before I could as much as blink, it was all gone. And I was still pressed up against him hearing the dark music lingering in the back. The smell of smoke was undeniable. It was like something was burning, dying. Something was being put to an open flame. My innocence, me.

I woke straight up, looking at the clock which had blurry numbers, I could faintly make out numbers and I knew is was 6 something. I blinked, writing everything I could remember about that nightmare before burying my startled face in my hands and silently crying. No one could hear me, I didn't want anyone to listen.

I was crying, because I was overwhelmed. I hadn't had a nightmare since I was a little girl, since my mom braided silver in my hair and whispered encouraging words in my ears. I cried, just because I hadn't cried in a while. Tears had felt forgein to my face and I missed the trail of water sliding down my cheek. And I cried, because I was confused. My dream was shocking to my senses, sending my brain into breakdown mode. I had too many why's and what if''s.

I was scared, if this was supposed to be a sign. If someone, was trying to send me a warning. It wasn't even like it was scary or anything, it was just shocking. In my dream in a matter of seconds I was on a way down a path I didn't want to go but by then I couldn't stop it. My crown, my virginity, had fallen because I chose to look down, even if I was warned don't look down. And it only took the one choice, and it was broken forever. And the thought of trying to think through everything else had just confused me more, and made my head pound harder. Which made me cry harder. My heart was racing for the adrenaline of just how real it was, that moment when you have to tell yourself it was just a dream. But it had felt so damn real.

I didn't know what had just happened, but I knew it was something important. But whatever happened that night in my dream, started starry-eyed, dreamlike, enchanting. But quickly turned into a nightmare. Sleep beckoned me and I answered it's call. Not because I was tired from the shaky night, but because I was enchanted by its glittery ring.

* * *

Hey everyone!I hope you liked the chapter, I had fun writing it. I just wanted to remind you that it was Wednesday and you should be wearing pink. Oh yeah, and I wanted to update you that as of now Wednesday will be story day. I may post more chapters in between but I can promise a new chapter every Wednesday just because I love you. So please proceeded to review. Please review, because reviews are what I write for. And I love to know if there are you people out there who are reading, so even if its something small let me know you read it. And PM me with any story suggestions or if you want to talk! And remember I post new chapters every Wednesday!

~xoxo Queenbee19


	6. Magic

Do you believe in magic? In a young girl's heart? There were just those moments in life, those simple special moments, where you truly believed in magic. There were some things, that were just so perfect so beautiful, that the only explanation was magic. Those moments of magic, were called love. I had experienced love, in a different way. I had experience love, in a way that was only magical. Pure, magic.

I was outside, talking to none other then Chance. My brunette hair waterfalled down to my shoulders in beautiful curls. My jean shorts were the right amount of shortness, barley brushing my fingertips. I had a cream lace tank on, with matching delicate sandals. Even my makeup was done to an adorable causal point, with slight natural shimmer. I looked cute, but I guess as cute as I usually did. But I had known to look especially cute today, because it was an eve of an important day. Tomorrow was the Anniversary of the amazing day my life was supposedly ruined. The day the one I loved spontaneously took it upon himself to touch his lips to mine and become my first real kiss.

I noticed Michael walking towards his cabin out of the corner of my eye behind Chance. I knew he noticed I saw him, but I think seeing me with Chance drove him away. So I told Chance I had to go, and jogged as much as I could in these shoes to catch up with him. Once I did, my pace had slowed and I was walking beside him.

"Michael, hey," I said to him once we were level. Michael's face had almost lit up when he saw me, in just a reminder how lucky I was to have him. And how unlucky I was going to be when I lost him.

"Hey, Blakey." he smiled at me, turning to face me as we stopped walking. The sun was behind him as it was setting and glow around him made me grin brighter.

"Hey. What's up I saw you walking and then you like left," I started to see his reaction. Chance and him still weren't talking and I still couldn't help but blame myself. It seemed like the moments I tried not to think, were the moments I would bittersweetly regret.

Michael's shoulders moved up and back down in a slow shrug "You were talking with Chance. Didn't want to mess up your vibe."

I tried hard to hide a smirk, I was amused by the dislike. Michael was never the jealous type, ever. But it seemed like since that night he had been. Another thing to blame myself for. But still, I thought it was cute, he was cute, when he was jealous but trying not to show it. "Well, we're not talking anymore I came over to hang with you" I said nudging him.

"I was never worried. You know if I wanted you I'd have gotten you." he laughed, leaning down and kissing me. He pulled me close to him as I smirked, kissing back. One thing I would forever treasure, his kisses. They were so raw and real. Never forced, always sweet. I could always feel the adoration in them, and they would always remind me of our first. Still, no kiss would ever compare.

I pulled away, "I love you," I said to him softy, like the words were for his ears and his ears only. I couldn't get enough of saying it since the night I told him. I probably told him a million times today, but I just wanted him to know.

He pulled me close again, leaning down and whispering in my ear, his lips brushing softly agaisnt my sun-kissed skin. "Love you more."

I smirked, as if I could believe for a second that he did. My love for Michael, I couldn't put it in words. It was like trying to tell someone what a rainbow was. The obvious, beautiful rare bright. But then there were the deeper things to how I felt for him. Special, strong, light. You couldn't walk right through it, and sometimes you couldn't see it. But through it all it was there and as strong and beautiful as ever.

"Nope, I love you more for sure. It's not even up for debate," I whispered back charmingly, moving myself so that I was taking sweetly in his ear. I was hoisted up by the waist, and placed over his shoulder as he carried me into his cabin.

"Keep telling yourself that," he laughed to me as I giggled. Silly moments like this still made my heart jump and flutter. Once we were inside, there was a table set up full with table cloth and candles. There were even soft pink rose petals scattered around. The lights were dimmed setting the scene. It was so, sweet.

"Awwww," I sighed and couldn't help it. It was a natural daughter of Aphrodite reaction. When anything romantic like that was set up we just took it right to heart. My eyelashes fluttered, looking to him with a huge grin.

"I know the big day is tomorrow, but I wanted tonight to be magical too." he winked, and reached in his pocket. When his hands came out, he had smirked and I was sprinkled in pink glittering dust. It was almost like the day we met, though I had to say dust was better then water. Anything was better then water.

My cheeks proceeded to turn a shade the same as the petals on the table. I had heard him say tonight and magical in the same sentence and I was getting butterflies again. Like I told Chance, I didn't know what I wanted. I really didn't. But promised myself it if felt right, to just go for it. "Well, I'm already touched," said to him taking my seat at the table.

Michael disappeared in his room, saying he would be right back. While he was doing that, I franticly tried to fix my hair. I silently cursed at myself for not carrying any makeup or a mirror with me. I took a small breath, if this was supposed to be an important moment for us I didn't want to have split ends. But then again, what could I do.

Michael reappeared as he carefully placed a chicken breast wrapped in bacon on the plate. I already knew it would taste amazing, Michael was a child of Nike, and succeeded at just about everything. So my badass boyfriend could cook too, just don't tell everyone.

"I really am touched you did this Mike," I said to him honestly. Considering the screw up I had last week I thought he would still be mad. I still figured I was walking on ice.

"Only the best for the Princess," he teased, filling my glass with water from a glass pitcher on the table.

I smirked watching him,"Thank you good sir," I teased back to him. Weather or not I was a princess, he was and would always be my prince. Michael smirked, and bowed gallantly playing along. Then he took his seat across from me as I sighed looking to him.

I didn't want to ruin the moment, but I knew that I would. It was still echoing in my head, that he wanted to make tonight magical. And I couldn't get out the thought if we were thinking the same thing. And if we were...I just didn't know. "Mike, you said you wanted to night to be magical...how magical did you want it." I asked him, not that I was planning to but it just kind of came out.

His amber eyes snapped up to meet my voltaic blue ones. The one in his voice was warning, but unsure. "Blake..."

I looked to him carefully, knowing I was going into a deep water. And even know I knew how to swim, mom made me take lessons, I was praying I wouldn't drown. "I just wanted to ask, thats all." I said back, hoping to see what was on his mind. Sometimes he was so hard to read, but other times I had to figure out what was on his mind.

"I want tonight to be special in... Every way." Every way. It just suddenly hit me what he was thinking, and somewhere inside the light switch turned on and I suddenly wasn't afraid. Maybe because I was just with him, and the moment, and the scenery. But I was ready. I knew what I wanted. And I knew, somehow, that it would be perfect.

He responded in turn to my nod, by offering me some of the chicken he had made. I automatically said yes, because I knew it would taste great. But I had another itching question and I figured since our Anniversary was tomorrow, then it would be nice to know tonight. It was something I never understood. Something I never knew what I had done to deserve it. I never figured out how I got the luck.

"Why did you kiss me that first day?"

Michael paused, and the world seemed to stop moving. It was like everything suddenly froze as I asked my dying question. Our eyes met, as he deeply looked into mine. "Because you were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. You still are. You always will be."

Butterflies were back, and my heart fluttered. Then it melt, hearing those words. I knew a moment like that was something to be replayed over and over again in my head. It was like whatever I wrote of love was petty, because his words were so real and full of truth. You could just see the affection in his eyes. And I was so close to tearing up but I couldn't ruin my mascara.

He brought me right back to when I was a little girl. When Rylie and I would talk of our princes. And be silly girls watching silly Disney movies. But there was always that one moment, where some magic happened. The slipper fits. The kiss wakes her up. The magical carpet ride. The moment where you just know something, and you feel something, A moment of pixie dust, and bibidi bobidi boo. A moment of pure magic.

"I love you," was all I could manage, looking at the man I had known to love. I had met him when we were crazy kids, he was just a badass 16 year old boy and I was a silly 15 year old girl. But now, he was a strong, sweet, still a badass, 18 year old man. And I was still a silly girl, but one who had matured and grown over the past two years. Time really changed a person, but it never changed the two of us.

Michael smirked slightly, probably because he had heard me tell him a million and one times now. "I know."

I laughed, being pulled out my crazy sentiment."Shut up," I said back. The grin on my face could light up the entire room.

"Make me?" he offered teasingly. And I was never one to turn down a challenge I knew I would win. I walked around the table and sat softly in his lap. I put my arms around him, pulling him into a deep kiss. The kiss could only show a fraction of the overwhelming flow of feelings I was feeling. He picked me up, our lips unbroken. My legs were tightly wrapped around his waist as he carried me to his room. Once we had reached his bed, he gently laid me down.

I knew I had promised myself if I felt it to go with it. And I definitely felt it. What I didn't feel was fear. I had been so afraid to mess it up, and do something wrong. But I felt like an angel with him at that moment, so light and beautiful. So delicate. I felt like there was no way I could do anything wrong. Not when I was in his arms. I believed in it, in my heart.

It was perfection. I didn't know how in other words to describe it. It was sweet and special, something I would never forget. I loved it even more then our first kiss, because this time out hearts were on the same wavelength. We had loved each other, and it had shown. I was glowing, beaming, in a way I never had been before. What I had shared with Michael, was magical. And I would never, ever forget it.


	7. Angel

I was snuggled up, head resting on his chest. I could feel the soft plush of his navy blue comforter under me as we laid atop his bed. I had chosen to spend the night with him in the Nike Cabin. I had faked like I was sleeping, because I knew Michael wouldn't sleep before he knew I was soundly dreaming. Because as soon as he thought I was dreaming, he had fallen right asleep. The sound of his light snoring was almost hypnotic. And because I was rested on his chest, my small body was moved up and down to the steady time of his breathing. My body was lifted up...down...up...down.

But the real reason I was awake, was because of the nightmare that had graced me last night. It was almost like a warning to me not to have sex with him, but once I was in the moment I disregarded the dream with ease. But that was what was scaring me. I was afraid of yet another nightmare. Whoever sent me the message last night could be back. So I silently laid here trying to stay awake. Looking to our clock and counting down the minutes until our Anniversary. It was 11:39. 11 minutes till midnight.

I tried to replay the events of my day. But there was no way the memory would even match what had really happened. Nothing could make me feel the same way I did just hours ago. Today had been a long Anniversary Eve, and I had became a changed Blake. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to feel proud or not. I did know though, that another minuted had went by and now it was 10 minutes till midnight.

I tried to think of every good thing that happened to me today. And all of Michael and I's past romantic days. 8 minutes. And I tried to think of how it felt, the weird combination of pain and joy at the same time. 5 minutes. I tried to think of all the reasons why I needed to stay awake. 3 minutes. I tried to count every time the words "I love you" had escaped my innocent lips. 2 minutes till midnight.

I watched the clock, watching each tick happen. The tintinnabulation of the little clock reminded me of little glittery bells being rung at a steady pretty beat. Tick. Tick. Tick. 1 minute left. Seconds left. My eyes began to feel heavy and I tried to fight it. But somehow I knew this would happen, and I had kept my journal with me on the bed. Michael asked what it was, and why I was sleeping with it. But if I tried to explain I was writing my thoughts down, I thought I would sound crazy.

When the clock read exactly 12:00, I kissed Michael's cheek whispering "Happy Anniversary," It had been two years since our crazy magic kiss. I tried hard, but there was no way I was going to stay awake. So I snuggled up, bracing myself for whatever whoever would through at me. All I asked was that they didn't ruin my night, because so far it had been perfect.

My eyes opened, as I felt the less then plush mattress underneath me. I was propped up, my eyes groggily making an unclear view. I blinked another time, then another. Getting focus. Around me, I realized I was in the infirmary. The bed looked partially stained and there multiple pillows propped up behind me. I was in an awful, awful nightgown. But at least it was a simple white. I probably looked a mess, because I felt unhinged.

I was in minor pain, but it was strange because I never remembered getting hurt. But the pain was dull, and it felt like it was on its way to being numbed. I couldn't figure out what was going on, and then I saw Michael sitting on the bed next to mine, his hands clasped together as he was looking down. When he noticed my eyes on him, he immediately looked up with a smile on his face. He looked like he had been deep in thought, and I had pulled him back to reality.

"What's..going on?" I asked more then confused. Why was in in the infirmary and feeling numbed. And why was Michael here. If i was hurt and just woke up, I would think his reaction would be a bit more well dramatic.

He came over to me, sitting on the edge of my bed with a glint of pride in his eye. "She's beautiful. Just like her mother," he said to me softly. And then it hit me. Wait a second. I hit rewind on my dream, and surprising I had more control over this one then my last.

"She's beautiful. Just like her mother." Michael looked to me softly, making the same motion he had just done seconds ago. I hit pause on my dream. I studied Michael, and he looked the same. Twinkling amber eyes, sexy brown hair. His face was still youthful. So I ruled out the possibility of this being in the far-ish future. I looked to my hands quickly, and there was no sparkling ring to comfort me. I looked back around, the people who were walking about the infirmary were all people our age, who were campers still. I hit play. "She's perfect. Your perfect...I love you. Both of you." he said taking my hand and kissing my knuckles. I paused again. We had a daughter? I had a daughter. I had a daughter? I...had a daughter. But then that meant...that would mean.

I woke right up, my eyes opening in a panic. I knew there was no need to jot down what had just taken place, I would remember that. But still, just in case, I wrote down the past events. My heart was beating so fast. The thump of the beat was almost so fast my chest was going to disinagrate. I tried breathing, it was just a dream. Just a dream. I only had sex once, and last night. And no one gets pregnant the first try, no one. And Michael was protected. I think. But my vision of that part was blurry. The whole moment I remembered, but that part was really faded.

I tried to take it calmly, closing my eyes to fall back sleep. It was just a dream was repeated over and over in a hypnotic swirl. But nerves were not that easy to make go away. A halfhearted chant wouldn't scare them off. Eventually though, I was lucky enough to lose consciousness. And even though I had fallen back asleep, my other dream was still lingering. I just wanted a few hours of sleep. My eyes were closed, and I was safely back in Michael's arms. A peaceful angel going to rest. Angels did no wrong, I was just paranoid. I slept soundly, my halo glowing brightly.

Paranoia didn't go away. I had figured that out the hard way. When I woke up, when we had breakfast. It was in the back of my mind the entire time waiting for me to click it again and access it. I tried to avoid it, and revert my thoughts. But it was there, always watching. During our morning "I love you"' it was there. Watching me. But then I needed to change, shower, get ready for the day. And eventually I made it back to my cabin, the Aphrodite Cabin. I was still in an panic from my dream last night, the dream I couldn't quite call a nightmare, I knew there was one thing there to ease my nerves.

My mother had made all of us girls in the cabin an emergency pregnancy tester. And since my mom made it, it was 100% correct all of the time. All of the time being from anytime after you had sex. So even know it had only been hours, it would pick up if I was...The p word. But there was no way that I was. Because...well I just wasn't pregnant. My pregnancy tester had always deemed useless for me, but right now I needed it just to calm my nerves and ease my thoughts.

I locked myself in the bathroom, holding the pink tester. It was instant testing. So in an instant I had results. I knew I was fine, there was nothing to be worried about. So why wouldn't I move my thumb to see the results. My stomach was in knots, the feeling just felt bad. I felt like all of the blood from my face was being drained out in fear. I looked at myself in the mirror, I looked awful in my pink pajama short and tight fitting tank top. I knew could've brought sexier pajama's to Michael's but I hadn't. My dark hair was all frizzy, from the rough night which consisted in constant tosses and turns. I looked completely causal, and if done right I could've looked cute. And for a quick moment I almost wished I was blonde again, because this was a look I knew blonde Blake would've been able to pull off.

I counted back from 3. 3 because of the 3 words I had said to him at 3:33. I didn't really have a better reason, it just felt lucky. Three. Two. One. I moved my thumb, looked at the results, and dropped the tester in shock.

I slowly slid down the wall, dragging my back with my heart down to the ground. I was planted on the ground, in a ball knee's hugging my chest. I wrapped my arms around me knee's burying my face as I began to cry. I was so stupid. I was so so stupid. Only something like this would happen to a girl like me.

Michael was going to hate me. He was. Because look what I managed to screw up. We have one night together and now this. And my mom, she was going to hate me. And my dad...I didn't know what he would do. He already hated Michael, he wasn't the guy he had visioned his angel daughter dating. But now, I think the hatred would skyrocket. And he would hate me too.

And the camp, they would think I was a slut. And I wouldn't be popular anymore, and people would look down at me. I would be the pregnant girl. And how to even tell my friends. Because I'm still afraid my friends aren't my friends. And if they would leave me now that I got int this mess.

And with that, I couldn't raise a child. I was 17. And immoral. And if the baby was immortal and Michael wasn't. Or worse, if the baby wasn't either. And children needed time, I've got forever ahead of me. But I didn't want to ruin Michael's golden years forcing him to be with a kid. A kid he probably didn't want. Which went right back to the possibility of him hating me.

Well, I once was an angel. I was sweet, and beautiful. And I had moments like last night that were pure magic and perfection. But my halo just cracked, and everyone would see the act. I was no angel, I wasn't good enough for that. Angel's were poised and perfect. I wasn't perfect, because of moments like this. Moments I try to hard to be perfect and end up messing every single thing up. As tears rolled down my soft cheeks, all I could think of wasn't the good but the bad. All I could think of, was imperfection. No angel had imperfections, because with them they couldn't fly.


	8. Glass

Think of one word to describe yourself. Ready? You have your word? Now think of one word you think people describe you as. Got it? Do the words match up? Probably not. But right now, the words match up for me. Pathetic.

People hated me, I know they do. Camp was seriously a place for fake friendships. Not to sound self-centered, honestly. But when your as pretty and powerful as me, your like a celebrity. Rylie and I even went as far as being called the Golden Girls. People smile at you and want to be your friend. People pretend to be your friend. People pretend to like you. But I knew people hated me, they hated my faker then fake smile. They hated my shinny brunette hair, my sun kissed skin. They hated my perfect life. On the outside, I looked perfect. And people hated that. They knew on the inside, that I was pathetic.

I was one of those girls that didn't cry in public. I always kept a cheery glossed smile. I didn't show weakness, I was perfect remember? I was referred to as a Barbie, and Barbies had nothing to get upset about. If I were to ever act upset in public people would think it was something petty. Another chipped nail right? Or maybe I lost my eyeliner pen again. I was like the girl who cried wolf. I had nothing to really be upset over my biggest problem in life was spilled makeup. Maybe it was. But everyone thought I had overwhelming confidence and luck. I never put my guard down. So when I cried, and I did cry opposed to popular belief. It was me at my rawest form. It was when I showed serious emotion, weakness. Imperfections. Cracks in the faecde.

So when I showed up, letting myself in the Poseidon Cabin I was at my rawest and most fragile form. I was like delicate glass, one drop and I was broken. There would be no going back, glueing me back together would take too long. So I tried my hardest to stop crying before I entered, keeping the shinny perfect glassy look I always had. But I was slowly cracking.

I tried hard to stay strong, I did. But as soon as I entered there was a sudden rush of tears. In a flurry of mixed emotions and confusion, I opened my mouth. "Rylie Rylie Rylie oh gods I really f**ked up!"

Rylie looked up from her magazine, and through the blur of tears I could make out the S in Seventeen. And that just reminded me that I was pathetic. Because I was seventeen and pregnant. "What's wrong?" she asked me seriously. She had no idea how much I screwd up, but she was Rylie and my twins. She wouldn't of even needed the tears to know I was upset. She knew me too well, and she was always there for me.

I sat on her bed, flopping down on the plush conformer. I was still pretty much frozen is shock, and I tried to explain to her my feelings but I knew it wouldn't come out right. I just knew that saying the words, "I'm pregnant" would make me shatter.

"Rylie...Michael and I. We had sex. But...but then. I thought we were protected. And,"

"Are you,,,?" she asked quietly, reading my exact thoughts. Exact. I know some people say twin telepthy doesn't exist. But I felt like something did. We weren't even identical, and we had two different dads, but the connection I had with Rylie was so deep. She knew everything about me, and was always there for me. She was the one person I could count on who didn't hate me.

I bit my lip, nodding in admittance of what I had managed to do. What I had managed to mess up. "And my life is over. Rylie Michael's going to hate me! And think of camp everyone's going to think I'm a slut," well more then they already do, now they'll have proof. "And mom. She'll hate me too!" My emotions were fighting each other, trying to tell me how I was supposed to feel. They were pulling at my head, and my heart. Tearing up my composure.

Rylie grabbed my hand, and looked right at me. "Blake, our Mom, the GODDESS OF LOVE, will not hate you for having sex. Michael will not hate you;he forgot the condom. And I might have an idea about camp..." I knew she was right, Rylie was always the smarter twin and usually was right. But something still told me that Mike would be mad at me, how was this not my fault. I was the pathetic one I should've checked. When it comes down to it I'm responsible for my body right?

"I don't know, I knew I should've done it. It just felt so perfect and right and I guess I was just too stupid to check..." I trailed with a sigh "And how can we fix camp? Everyone will know. Its not even fair Zan has sex all the time and he's not a father yet...oh my gods im going to be a mother...I can't do this."

"What... What if..what if I get pregnant. We.. Could do this together?"she offered to me with a tiny soft voice.

My eyes widened, and I blinked in surprise."You would do that?" I sighed "But, I don't want you to feel like you have to I messed up not you." I said, though the thought of having someone to do it with felt comforting.

"No.. I can't let u do this alone. What are sisters for?" she offered with a tiny weak smile. I in turn reached over and hugged her tightly. She really was always there for me, every single time I screwed up. Every. Single. Time.

"What about Warner though?" I knew that no 17 year old boy wanted to have a child. Not at 17.

"Your more important," she told me. That was the bond of sisters, the bond we had.

I nodded, pulling away and drying my eyes on my own shirt. Careful to not get mascara on it. Because if I did it would leave a dark stain that would remind me of my tears. I was supposed to be perfect, perfect girls couldn't cry.

"How am I even going to tell Michael?" The thought of his face, when I told him, scared me. I was terrified. He was sure to hate me, break up with me, leave me.

"just tell him. No embellishments, and definitely no "I'm sorry".Tell the truth."

I nodded, hugging my knees to my chest and staying silent for a moment. When I opened my mouth, my voice was barely audible."I'm so scared he'll get mad, I just don't want to lose him."

"You know Michael. If he would leave you, he's not worth it."

I nodded again, because she was right. As much as I didn't want to believe it, if he was going to leave me he wasn't good enough for me. But my voice stayed quiet and fragile, "I know. Rylie thank you so much. For being here, for listening to me whine. I don't know what I would do without you honestly."

"It means a lot for you to say that." she said as she pulled me into a hug.

I hugged her back "Your welcome. Its so true though Rylie. Your so important to me. Really" I told her. Before Michael, she was the most important person in my life. I looked up to my older sister, I really did. But I just never knew if she knew how important she was to me.

"Your important to me too. Now go tell your baby daddy!"

I tried to laugh, but it came out fake and forced. "I guess so." I said frowning and getting up "Thanks for everything Rylie, and If I come back soon crying to you about Mike promise you'll be there to get me chocolate"

"Are you kidding? I'll have chocolate regardless. I have to find a way to...With Warner." I saw her wince.

I bit my lip "If he won't do it you don't have to. Honestly."

"He doesn't have to know. He's been hinting for a while that he wants to... I'll just say I'm ready. I am, you know? I am ready." I knew Rylie well, and it sounded like she was trying more to convince herself then me.

"If your ready, its so worth it. I mean other then our first kiss it was one of my favorite days ever." I told her thinking to it with a smile. Even if Mike left me I would still have our magical night. "I should really go talk to Mike now,"

"Alright," she pulled me close for one last hug, and then shoved me out the door. "Do it now; before you lose confidence."

I smirked, something I hadn't done at all in the past few hours. Before I lose confidence. I had already lost confidence, but her saying that. Her actually believing I had confidence, made me get it back. I mean I was Blake, when did I ever run out of confidence?

Think of another word to describe yourself? Is it negative? Mine was, depending on how you looked at it. One word to describe me. Glass. Delicate, beautiful, reflective,shinny. Strong.


	9. Petals

He loves me...he loves me not. He loves me...he loves me not. He loves me...

There were just about a million things I would rather do right now. I would sit down, plucking off pink petal's from a delicate flower. Plucking off my feelings, emotions, judgement, beauty. Until I was just a bare, raw steam. All to know if he would still love me.

The fear in my steps made me almost sick to my stomach. This was a fear I never had before. A fear that wanted to slowly get into my mind, changing my judgement. A fear that wanted to strip me raw. A fear that played in my head, only the worst what if's. Fear, of losing first love.

He was sitting by himself next to the river, and his amber eyes gleaming. He was thinking. Of what I'll never know, but his mind seemed to be draped in beautiful thoughts and I didn't want to ruin it. But I'm selfish and stupid, and I did anyways. Michael though, didn't seem to mind.

I bit my lip, hard. I tried to keep a blank mind as I went over to sit next to him. I mustered a tiny smile, and knowing me it probably flirted with fake. "Hey." I said softly.

Michael smiled widely, and apparently my appearance was something good. His face, actually lit up. "Couldn't get enough of me?" he teased, before winking at me.

Usually this would be where I cutely blushed, or said something sarcastic back. But it,wasn't. I tried again to at the least smile brighter but I couldn't. Michael could probably see right through me. "I need to talk to you. It's important." I told him flat. I didn't want to be so blunt, I really didn't. But I had to be, it was the only way I was going to be able to tell him without crying, puking, running away, or not telling him at all.

"Well first of all, Happy Anniversary! But what do you have to say?"

"Well." I started slowly. Well was dragged out, longer then a well should've been. With Rylie's voice echoing to tell him straight, I decided to be blut. No fluffing up the story, no apologies. "I...I... Michael...I'm pregnant." I avoided his gaze urgently, I couldn't look him in the eyes. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think. I waited. Waited for my words to sink into his brain, and for him to answer my pressing thoughts. Did he love me still? Or did he not? He loves me, he loves me not. The last petal fell to the ground.

"How could you possibly know already?" Was the first thing he was able to say. The first words to my shocking news.

I wasn't sure if that was how I expected him to take that. But all I could think was that it better then the scary things I had imagined him saying. I imagined a tearful breakup, me being left in my error. Left to have our child, and be reminded of him. "We have an emergency tester in the Aphrodite Cabin, I had a weird dream last night about us having a child, a daughter. So I thought I would check. To ease my fear. Because there was no ... but then It came out positive."

"That's ... Nice." He muttered, and I wasn't sure if it was sarcastic or he actually thought the idea of us having a chid was nice. "But you're sure then? You're carrying our baby?"

I miserably nodded, "I'm sure. My mom made the tester. It's 100% right 100% of the time." I tried to look at him in the eyes again, and this time I succeeded. "Are you mad at me?" I couldn't help asking. I just needed to know if he was mad, because I didn't know why but somehow I felt like this was my fault. If I was as perfect as I tried to be, I would have checked before. If I was perfect, there would be no accidents. This was just an accident but perfect girls never had accidents.

He looked at me, and somehow just his gaze calmed me down. "Of course I'm not mad at you. I'm the idiot." he paused, "Do you hate me? Of course you do! I.. Infected you with a ... Fetus."

I shook my head,almost amused that he thought I would ever blame this on him for a second. It was my fault, I should've been more perfect. "No, I really don't hate you. I could never hate you. Ever." I stopped taking a deep breath, the chill in my stomach was coming back."But I don't know if I can do this Mike I'm freaking out," I confessed to him, I confessed my fears. I confessed my imperfections, my mess ups. I confessed I needed help. "I'm so scared" I said my voice real quiet, barely audible.

"Your not alone.. I'll support you in any decision you make."

I nodded, his words made me feel a little better. Just a little. "Well he. She. Whatever the baby is is half yours. What do you want?" I asked him seriously.

"I want you to be happy. Last night was perfect. This baby will always be a reminder of how perfect it was."

My lips moved, and I almost smiled. "You wanna keep it?" I asked him, "I mean can we realy raise a child?" We were 17 and 18, and it wasn't like we were the most responsible teenagers either.

"Yes?"

I nodded again, hugging him to feel safe in his arms. Michael somehow knew exactly now to make me feel better. He made me regain sanity, again. "Well, if you want me to have it, then I'll have it." I decided right then and there. I wanted him to be happy too, and if he wanted the child we were going to have the child. I didn't know how this would all work out, but we were going to try.

Michael hugged me close, moving a strand of my dark hair, "We can decide about.. Adoption later?"

" ." I said, it was something we would really have to think about. "But what will the baby be like? I mean I'm immortal, and your not. So will the baby be like half-immortal. Or not? I just don't know" I said into his chest. I was thinking about too many things at once, I needed to clear my thoughts.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see.. Although you should talk to your mom."

"Oh gods my mom. And worse, my dad." I said thinking of that more then awkward chat with them. I knew dad didn't like him, despite the fact he was friends with his mom. And even if mom supported love and sex and whatever, how would she feel about teen-pregnancy. I just didn't want to disappoint her.

"To be fair... They probably already know..." He rationalized. They were gods, he had a point.

"Your right." He was right, he was usually right. I could talk everything out with him, and no matter what I said he would make me feel right. Even if I was wrong. Not stupid, not frustrated, not pathetic. But perfect. That was what I loved about him, actually I loved everything about him. From his rebellious streak, to his soft romantic side. I loved every surprise, every kiss, every touch. And I knew that the child we had, I would love everything about him. Or her. Because it would be a direct by-product of us. Us. I loved everything about the two of us. And when the petals fell, and I had to asked if he loved me, or loved me not. I knew that was just a waste, because he would always love me. No matter what I did, no matter every imperfection, he would be there to support me. And that, was everything I needed.

Perfection is something I have always aimed for. Single handedly. But when I was with Michael, I achieved perfection. But it was collerabratively, a joint thing. It wasn't about me being perfect, or him being perfect. But us being perfect. We, were a perfect couple. Because we fought, we screwed up, we had bad days, we made mistakes. But we were perfect because though it all our love never faltered but got stronger. And even know I was scared, terrified. I knew that Michael would be with me through the whole thing. He loved me, he loved me not. It was never a question, he loved me always.

* * *

Hey everyone! Hoped you liked this chapter! Please leave a review, tell me what you think. Tell me what I can improve on. And if you have any ideas or suggestions you can leave them or PM me. Thanks!

~xoxo Queenbee19


	10. Life

I once heard, well read online, that it was good to write your fears down. I had written them before, a short week ago. But the difference now, was that my fears have gotten more serious. Fears now were life and death.

Life. Now that I was carrying an unborn child, the thought of life had entered my brain. What did it mean to live? And what counted as having life? Life is wonderful, and beautiful, and something that can be written very simple or very complex. And living? To fully be living you had to be enjoying life. Right? Immortality was the ability to live forever, but then by my definition of living, was I only living forever when I was enjoying it. And would there be a time I stopped living, but I was still there?

Death. I had said before the concept scared me. And I can whole-heartedly say now that it now terrifies me. Death was a mystery, and dying was more of one. Because when you were dead, your sprit was still alive? Or was it not? So then was death just the death of your body? I just didn't know, and I never dwelled too much because I was immortal. I "lived forever." But now it wasn't just me. I was responsible for someone else too.

I'm 17. Seven-teen. And I really never planed for anything like this to happen I didn't. And I was even warned and I didn't take the warning. And now I was carrying potential life. But if I wasn't responsible to check Michael for protection, how could I raise a child? I couldn't. I could barely handle myself.

There was abortion, the option was there. But I had to think that I would be killing life. Killing something innocent and beautiful. Killing something who hadn't done anything wrong ever. Now I was never a reader, but I did know some literature. And I knew enough that aborting my child, killing an innocent soul, would be like killing a mockingbird.

There was adoption, but then it would be as if I abandoned our child. The last thing I wanted was for it, him or her, to be bitter with resentment towards Mike and I because we abandoned it. I knew I didn't have what it takes to raise a child. But if I didn't as much as try when what kind of person was I? I was yet to be perfect alone, but I had said we were prefect together. And perfection could take on anything right?

So then there was the terrifying though of me being a mother. Mother. Raising the child. But I couldn't keep it at camp could I? Would I have to leave? Maybe to my mom's place. But if Michael wanted a part in its life, then what? We were young, and I wasn't sure if we were ready to move in together. I was ready, but was he? Loving someone was one thing, living with them was another. But then I thought about it more, and I was ready. If we had to move in to raise this baby, then I would have no problem with it. I mean he would still have to get used to me spading makeup everywhere, and keeping everything else neat and clean; but other then that I could do it. I would get to wake up every morning with him, and our beautiful child. I had asked for a lot of things in life, but that seemed to be the ultimate gift.

So my fears? The current images that haunt me and my mind? There's too many, to many things that keep me on the verge of spilling my secrets to everyone. Too many things on my mind. But this is what I got for my actions, my lack of perfection. This is my punishment, being scared. And I needed to take these fears and get over them. Or again, what kind of angel wannabee would I be?

I'm afraid of falling. Falling down the dark path of the unknown. I was always one to stick to the know, stick to what I could perfect. But now I had to perfect something I knew nothing about. Well, I knew very little. I have mother and she's great and I love her like any daughter would. But she wasn't exactly there for all of the substantial things. I could talk to her and tell her anything and I'm grateful for that, but cooking cleaning all of that we were left to our own devices. So being a mother, a perfect mother, all I had for help was episode's of Real Housewives and Toddlers and Tiaras to help me down the correct path.

Another fear, the future. Because it was more unclear then ever. I mean any future was a blur, this this was harder. I knew just about nothing. I didn't know what the baby would be like, what being pregnant would feel like, what my life would be like. I didn't know what people would think of me, if they would hate me more or feel sorry for me. I didn't know what would be next in my relationship with Michael, how having a child would affect us.

Emotions. Love, I'm afraid if me being pregnant could mess with the love we have. I knew it was strong, but it was also fresh new. Like new life. And this would be like throwing a stone at a newborn and telling them to think fast. It's not that the baby's not smart, its just not developed for that challenge yet. Importance. I don't think I really tell everyone how important they are to me. Rylie, is freaking ruing her relationship and getting pregnant all for me. For stupid, imperfect, selfish me. I should've stopped it at the thought, because what kind of sister was I letting her do this? An awful, awful one. Yet again I screw up, and Rylie looks good. Sometimes I think there's no use trying so hard to be perfect, Rylie's already the perfect twin.

Fear that I need to start treasuring things. Its like everyone's life is on a clock. And I just have a longer ticking one. One that ticks forever. But everyone else has a clock that runs out. Tick tick tick. Seconds, moments, falling off the clock. And one day it will reach a final breath, a final tick. And I want to be with these people until the last tick, because it will come sooner for me then I think. And I'm just afriad, scared, beating up on myself, that I'm not spending enough time with these people. I'm more focused on my own, stupid, life as an 17 year old girl. One who can be 17 again and again and again as many times as she wants. They can't.

Which brings me to selfishness. Your supposed to look out for yourself and everything, but I feel like when I do its being selfish. Self-Centerd. I don't mean to immerse myself into myself, I just care about myself. And I'm defensive. Of my name, of those I care about. So then I turn into bitchy Blake. I don't mean to, but I knock them down. I pick them apart. But I don't know how their feeling inside, they could be broken down for all I know. And I'm awful, I say things I shouldn't. And it looks like I'm insensitive, but I do apologize. I don't ever mean anything I say. I just like the power, control, the win. I'm terrible.

I don't want my child to be like me, I would be poisoning new life. The clear beautiful water and I would come and drip pink toxic into it. I'm terrible. I'm selfish, mean, insensitive, needy. I don't have a future planed, I'm irresponsible. Why would anyone trust me with a child. Why would anyone trust me with anything?

When I write my fears down again, and they change a bit, I can look back on myself. My fears now, all revolve around my new life that I'm holding in my hands. I'm afraid of falling my child. Afraid of our future. Afraid of our relationships, afraid of my judgment. Afraid if I'm even a good person.

I just can't mess up anymore. Because starting now, and probably forever, every single choice and screw up I make no longer centers around me. It affects our child. Our child that came from me screwing up. But that would be the last thing I screwed up.

FEAR. False evidence appearing real. Failure expected and received. Future events already ruined. F*** everything and run?

My brother, Phobos, is the god of fear. I had fears, and I knew that. And I'm strong enough to admit them. But the problem is that I'm not facing them. I'm noticing their there, and letting them bother me. FEAR. Fear is made up of four things. Frustration ego anxiety resentment. Frustration that I'm scared. Frustration of my imperfection. Ego. Seriously, my ego's bigger then my boobs. Maybe equal. Anxiety, well obviously I'm stressed. Resentment, because I'm still mad and blaming myself for everything.

I was letting my fears control me, and I had to stop. Because in doing that, I was showing weakness, vulnerability. And soon before I know it I'll be an example, a role model. And I can't be controlled by something of no substance. Controlled by something fueled by me. I will not let fear take over me. I won't let it be a part of me. Because if it consumes me, then what life will I have left?


	11. Dream

Sometime you just have some of those nights. Those nights. There are some nights I get sharp pain and no matter how many times I try to shift my position I'm sore. Some nights I sleep right through, sleeping was less stressful then being awake. And some nights I can't sleep; over guilt. Guilt of what I had done, what I'm responsible for.

I've been pregnant 19 weeks, Rylie somewhere around 13. And in the past 19 weeks I have managed to ruin my sister's love life. She broke up with Warner, her boyfriend, not telling him why. She had used him to get pregnant, for me, and couldn't bare hurting him. Then she dated my brother, Caleb. Which was good, she went through a phase of blocking out the outside world and staying in the safety of her cabin. So a boyfriend was good. Until she told him of her baby. The one he wasn't fathering. And broke up with him. Caleb and I were the only ones who knew.

It may not look on the surface like I ruined it, but I did. Because if I would've been smarter, I wouldn't of forgot protection. And then I wouldn't be pregnant. Rylie wouldn't got pregnant for me, and she would still be with Warner. I bet she had dreams of their relationship, and I just woke her up. Another reason why she was the better sister. And this is what I get for imperfections.

Tonight though, is one of those nights that I just want to talk. I camp out in Michael's bedroom. It's early evening, but I just want to rest. So he's cuddles me close on his bed, and I rest my head on him. And I feel protected, safe, in his arms. I feel loved.

And we talk. About us, about the future. About our dreams. About my dreams. And I tell him, of my dreams of fears. Of my dreams of what if'. My dreams of failure, faults and forgiveness.

I tell him how I dream of our baby. And how I picture a bouncing baby boy who looks just like his father. Mischievous, troublemaking. But when you look into his eyes you can see the real soft heart. You just have to look.

I tell him how I dream of the two of us, raising the child at camp. The child growing up. And us being able to experience new feelings only parents could. Feelings of pride. Pride that you created something so beautiful, wonderful, successful.

I tell him how I dream of failing. Finding away to somehow mess up. Mess up the pregnancy mess up the child. Mess up more of Rylie's life, if that was possible. How I'm afraid of the unknown, and what comes next in the next chapter for us. Afraid of the pain I'm feeling, and the pain I'm yet to feel. Afraid of fearing fear itself.

And he listens. And pulls me closer. He whispers all the right things in my ear. All the comforting words to make me feel safe. And kisses me, and cuddles me, and loves me.

And the night goes on and it gets later. And we both yawn because it like love is contagious. And we snuggle closer, living in the present moment we have together. Then I close my eyes, and allow myself to fall asleep. Because only when I'm dreaming can the future look so real.


	12. Snowball

Everyone claims their missunderstood. Me? Im completely understood. Everyone can see right through any guard I put up to try and disguise myself with. Anyone who knew me, pretty much knew me. And I was becoming ok with myself. I mean I wasn't loving all of my imperfections, but I was learning to get used to them.

Speaking of getting used to, pregnancy was something I was still not used too. Morning sickness was a pain in my ass. Sleepiness was a pain in my ass. Cravings could just about kiss my ass because if I wasn't my mother's daughter I would be so fat right now. All I could do was eat my feelings away in a puddle of Ben and Jerry's Cheesecake Brownie ice cream and boxes of Godiva Chocolate.

I was 21 weeks pregnant. Lucky 21. And there were some little things I enjoyed about it now. I could feel its little feet kicking the inside of my magically flat stomach. I've heard its little heartbeat, and i've been told that inside me it could be taking little yawns. My baby could hear sounds, and I was known to play soft music for my future child. But soft music turned into Mean Girls, so we'll see how that turns out.

And one thing I was yet to do, was pick out a name. By 21 weeks, I was well able to know the gender. I had previously speculated boy from his kicks, Michael however predicted a girl. Either way my next appointment would be this weekend so I would be able to know.

My usual days lately, we're mostly me lying in bed. Because when I was doing nothing, I wasn't messing up anything. Like I said I got used to my imperfections, but it was more like a rueful acceptance. Because there was no way to change anything. And they've just been piling up and up into a snowball. I've done so much damage, and now I was facing the guilt.

But I needed something to get my mind off of guilt. Something to remind me of the joys of being mother. Something to remind me that everything would be ok. Everything would be fine. Something to try and ware down the growing snowball. Then I remember that the baby needed a name, and naming was something fun. So without attempting to brush out my hair, I willed myself to leave my cabin and make my way to Michael's Cabin. The Nike Cabin. Naming would be something to get my mind off of the pains. Pains of guilt, and of being pregnant.

I knocked slowly on his door, so glad he has the private bedroom being the Cabin Captain. So glad no one would interrupt this moment for us. So glad that if emotions kicked in, which they have been lately, and I broke down for no reason no one would hear me. "It's open" he called out to me.

I entered his room, and sat next to him on his bed. His room always was like a second home to me since we've been dating. So really since I got here at camp. Sometimes I think the Nike kids are sick of me. "Hey," I said to him softly as he pulled me into a cuddle.

"Hey," Michael smiled back.

I sighed, cuddling closer to him, "So I was thinking, about our baby," I started. Oh our baby. I still remember when I told him I was pregnant. He just seemed strangely ok with it. So since then, I've been able to tell him everything. If he could take that news, he could take anything.

"Mmmhh?"

"And I thought when he, or she comes, we should have some names ready," I said with a small smile. This was something I was looking foreword too. And I just hoped he cared as much as I did, I needed to do this. And even if he had no interest, I hoped he would fake it. For my sake.

"Oh.. When will we know the gender?"

I smiled, he seemed moderately interested. "My next appointment, so this weekend. When we go we can know the gender then." It was always weird when we went together, because they I took the charm off and he could see my belly so large. And I looked to pregnant. And I know how people say when your pregnant your "glowing" or whatever. But when I looked at myself in the mirror all pregnant, I felt so ugly.

Michael nodded,"Would you prefer one over the other?"

I shrugged, "Not really, but I think it's a boy. But I mean either would be fun. You have a prefrence?" Ok maybe I had a minor preference. A daughter would be like a mini-me. Like a little dress up doll. But then again if I had a boy all of the fun things I could do with Mike and him. So yeah, maybe no preference.

"I just want it to be healthy. I'll be happy no matter what."

I laughed, "Same. I'll be happy too." And a sigh followed the laughter, "Ok names shall we start with boy or girl?"

"Girl... Amber?"

"Amber's pretty, Ashley?...oh wait Blake!" Like I would want to name my child after myself, I wouldn't in a million years. Their can only be one Blake. Plus it would be too hard to live up to my name.

He raised his eyebrows at me. "Um.." I think he just didn't want to hurt my feelings, but I guess he would feel weird having his daughter and girlfriend share the same name. And Zeus forbid we ever break up, she would remind him of me every time they saw each other.

"Kidding, we really don't have to name her after me," we really really don't have to.

He smiled again, "What about... McKenna?"

"Hmm McKenna reminds me of Ken and McDonalds combined" Maybe a little harsh, but didn't want to think of greasy fast food every time I thought of my daughter.

Michael laughed, "Alright.. What were you thinking?"

"Hmm ok maybe something girly I don't know Amanda?"

"No...To overrated. Paige?"

"Paige is like books and I hate reading. Peyton?" It must've seemed like I was just being difficult, I just wanted the perfect name. And Paige just wasn't it. So if I had to say that it reminded me of books to give my self a valid reason to cling to, then I would. I just knew when we found the name I would know. If I couldn't be perfect my daughter would be.

"I like it... But too.. Sporty?"

"Your right, if we have a girl she needs to be not sporty. Lauren?" I wasn't raising a future athlete, I just wasn't. Unless it was a boy. I guess that was bad, but either I wanted a girly girl or a an athletic boy. Just like Michael and I. So name wise at least I could make her name feminine sounding.

"Marilyn?"

"Marilyn...hmm I kinda like it. But doesn't it sound kinda old?" I asked thinking to my sister who I had met. Marilyn Monroe. She was so nice, and definitely prettier in person.

"Monroe?"

I thought about it for a second. "Its pretty. Like, I like it. Do you?" I asked back. But really, I loved it. I really really loved it. It had a classic beauty to it, that yet was new and modern. And It was a nod to my famous half-sister. It just seemed right.

"I think it's perfect." He squeezed me close to him, as I closed my eyes in excitement. It was perfect. Something about it just was. I couldn't put a finger to it, I couldn't say just what. But Monroe was just perfect. Perfection. Maybe perfection was something you felt.

"I agree. I love it," I said feeling all butterliey again, as if that was a word. But the bubbly feeling inside just reminded me how perfect Michael and I were together.

Micheal kissed me gently on the lips, "and if it's a boy?" He whispered. I had already forgotten about boy names, being so wrapped up in the girl names.

I kissed him back, "Hmmm Michael Jr.?" I asked with a small laugh. I was totally joking, I don't think I could do it. But it was the obvious suggestion.

"Definitely." he smirked. "Now that that's decided..."

"Now that thats decided..."I trailed. I mean, if it made him happy I would do it. Him happy would make me happy right?

"I'm kidding, Hon. He doesn't have to be Michael Jr."

I laughed in relief, I probably would of done it if he really wanted too. "Good, I don't think the world can put up with 2 Michaels"

He held me to him and tickled "Now what's that supposed to mean?"

I giggled in defense, "Mike stop," I breathed as he smothered me in tickles,"It means I can't put up with two of you, your hard enough"

"You're right... I am hard enough." He teased into my hair as he kissed the top of my head.

I laughed again "Shut up," I told him,"This is what I mean" I giggled, I mean could I really handle dirty jokes from two of them.? If we had a son, and he was just like his dad...then I was screwed. But then again did I really want me in guy form? Weird.

"Okay...Then what names were you thinking? Carlos?" He pretended to ponder.

"Carlos? Ew. We can always name him after Zander," I joked, as if we needed two Zanders either. I think it was pretty much decided that all of us were one-of-a-kind, and that multiple of us could potentially lead to world destruction.

Michael laughed, "Cameron?" he asked more seriously.

"Cameron's not bad. Jordan? Ehh too feminine,"

"I agree... I really like Cameron." He told me, and I could tell his mind was made up.

"But Cameron is kinda girly too, like Cammie is girlish. Adam?" Adam wasn't bad, but Cameron wasn't it either. I just wasn't feeling the whole Cameron thing. I wasn't getting butterflies.

"No. And we shouldn't brush aside Cameron. I don't think it's girly." I could tell he was as good as sold now. And considering the wonderful fact that we were both as stubborn as hell, this would be a long one.

I sighed, "But I do, theres a lot of girls named Cameron."

"There are a lot of boys named Blake, or Monroe for that matter." He argude, bristling. And thus the bubbly name making moment I pictured in my head just died.

"Hey!" I say less smiley, i didn't like to be reminded of my boyequse naming. But I really did love my name. "And how many guys to you really know named Monroe?"

Michael lost his smile too, "It was originally a boy name.. So if Cameron is too girly then Monroe is too masculine." He argued.

I frowned, I knew our naming experience was way to good to be true. Monroe pretty much left it to no debate, and so I guess I should've saw a disagreement coming. "I don't think its masculine you just said it was perfect." I said back "I don't hate Cameron I just don't like it, or love it."

"Well..."

"Well? Do you not like Monroe now?" I asked, feeling my heart sink a little. I really loved Monroe, it just felt right My heart stopped sinking a little, it was about to drown. Gasping for air and hoping that he would throw the lifeline.

He sighed, "no...We both know that name is perfect..."

I nodded with a tiny smile, relieved. My heat was going back to normal, and I was no longer in jeopardy of being really upset."Ok, so its just the boys name. Maybe Cameron as the middle name?" I decided I probably was going to have to start compromising, and this would be no exception.

"Maybe." He gave me a tiny smile in return.

I then smiled a bit more. "Ok. What would go with Cameron for first or middle?"

"If you don't love it, we don't need it. But middle? Warren Cameron? Landon Cameron? Michael Cameron?" He asked with a wider smile, squeezing my side gently.

I giggled, "Somehow Michael has found his way back on the list did he?" I thought about it with a laugh, "Hmm maybe,"

Michael laughed with me, "Charlie Landon? Mark Cameron?" he offered.

"What about Ethan?" I suggested.

"That's a no. He sounds like a nerd." I didn't want a nerdy child, then again Michael and I probably weren't smart enough to produce a nerd. Rylie was the smart twin.

"Ethan's not nerdy! Shane?"

Michael outright laughed at Shane. "He sounds like he belongs in a stupid boy band." He teased unapologetically.

I attempted to pout, but end up laughing only because it was slightly funny, "Ok that was not nice. So you hate Ethan and Shane. But you like Cameron, which I don't like. _Greaat_. Luke?"

"I like Luke."

I smiled, "Luke Cameron? Lucas Cameron?"

"Luke Cameron." He agreed, which made me smile brighter.

"Ok so middle names for Monroe?" I asked him.

Michael yawned, "What were you thinking?"

"Well, I was thinking we could like pay homage to Rylie you know?" I really wanted to. Rylie had been there for me, and the least I could do was give my child part of her name.

"I know she's your twin, but why name your child after her?"

I bit my lip, he didn't know. And I wasn't supposed to tell. But I couldn't keep secrets from Mike, "When I told her I was pregnant, I was afraid of what everyone would think. I thought people would think I was a slut. And well, Rylie's pregnant too. She did it for me. So that we could face camp together."

Well, it was spilled. I told him. And i just pilled on something else I would be guilty for. And still tucked in the back of my mind, was my snowball rolling down the hill. The things I have done in the past 5 months were rolling onto each other, making the ball bigger. Me forgetting to check, lead to my pregnancy, which led to Rylie's pregnancy. And that caused Warner and Rylie to break up, which caused me to feel bad, and tell Mike. And Mike was going to make Rylie tell Warner or he would, each resulting in Rylie upset. All because of me.

I was learning to get used to my imperfections yes, but I wasn't forgiving myself for them. And I wasn't letting myself forget. And I wasn't sure if I ever would. Because even the small things I messed up on, could ruin another person's life.

I was never misunderstood, people get me. People just don't know what I'm really thinking. If they could get inside my head, hear my thoughts. They would see a running snowball of my mess ups. I messed up a lot, but who was keeping score? I was always keeping score. I would never let myself forget.


	13. Secrets

SECRETS were something you whispered to your best friend. Secrets were when you confided in someone, telling them personal things you didn't want others to know .Secrets were meant to be known between a few people, and kept silent. But sometimes secrets were passed. And information was shared between those who weren't invited in on it. And once you shared a secret, you were deemed untrustworthy for life. Lines were drawn, sides were picked. Secrets were called secret for a reason.

Michael just about fell of his bed, "She's WHAT?" Ok, so somehow I feel like I got a larger reaction telling him of Rylie's pregnancy then mine.

"Rylie got pregnant, I didn't make her do it I swear. Don't tell anyone, I don't even know If I was supposed to tell you," Oh I did know, I wasn't. And now that I told, the secret was out. There were reasons secrets were secrets.

"She got pregnant... Because I got you pregnant? Does Warner know? Did Warner agree?" He asked, and looked shocked. I had kept this from him, and I know I did. But I kept the secret for him for a good reason.

I shook my head, "No...and thats why she broke up with him. Because of the child. Because of me Mike I feel awful, I ruined their relationship."

He pulled me into a hug, "It's not really your fault. She makes her own decisions." He said in comfort.

I begin to tear up," But, still she did it because of me. And now she has a baby because of me. And Warner got his heart broken because of me. I'm just saying it sounds like my fault." It really was my fault, I caused the problem. If it wasn't for me Rylie would be happy. Warner would be happy. Now everyone was unhappy.

"It's not," he reassured," But I have to tell him, Blake." He slowly told me. The words hit my brain in slow motion. I hoped I heard them wrong, or maybe he was joking. He couldn't tell him, he wouldn't.

"Don't say anything you can't Rylie will hate me if you tell him,"

"But Blake! He's going to be a FATHER! He needs to know! I can't believe she kept this from him... I can't believe you kept this from me.. How long?" I can't believe I kept this from him either. But I had too, he couldn't expect me to tell him everything right? There had to be things he didn't tell me. Everyone had secrets.

"Just about a month after me. But Mike you CAN't say anything I wasn't even supposed to tell you! She's going to tell him herself eventually just let her do it please"

"He's my BEST friend! You've known THAT long? Blake!" I couldn't take him being angry at me. Maybe it was just the stress of the baby combined with ruining my sisters life, but if he was mad then I would go insane. He was supposed to be there for me to cling my feelings onto. _He_ had to be there for _me_.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, "YES! I'm sorry!" I ran a frustrated finger through my hair "You can say anything." I slowly said to him. Yet again, I managed to screw everything up. My imperfections became a snowball, and it keeps rolling down down down only getting worse.

"I just can't believe you kept this from me." He hugged me close, "I'm not too mad. But I need to tell him, Blake-y." He gently told me.

I softly cried a bit into his shirt. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was hormones. The line had been blurred lately. I could never tell which of my emotions were real. And which of my emotions were made of thin air and paper fear."Your mad. I know your mad. But...just let Rylie do it please? If you tell him he'll yell at Rylie and I can't let her get upset because of me again. Just don't tell him please" I tried to reason with him. I couldn't add another layer to my imperfection snowball.

"Then she needs to tell him now. Tonight."

"I don't know I don't want to force her into anything..."

"If she doesn't I will... He needs to know. It's his kid too, right? It's not Caleb's?"

I sigh, drying my eyes, and letting a few cute sniffles slip out. I was feeling better, and took a small breath, "No its not Calebs. Its Warner's for sure. I'll ask her to tell him ok? Just...you can't be the one to tell him he'll be more hurt that Rylie didn't."

He couldn't tell anyone. Because if he told, then Rylie would hate me for telling him. And I would hate him for her hating me. And it would just be a big mess. And my point was, I couldn't handle a stress moment.

"She just better tell him.." He sighed, then hugged me again. "I'm sorry Blake. I just- I need to be there for him. He doesn't deserve to be left out of his kids life. Do you want to go back to discussing names?" He ask,ed and I know it was an attempt to cheer me back up. But now I was longing for my Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream. I wanted to shrink back to my little bedroom, lock the door, and think.

But instead I stayed here with Michael and took his offer. I shrugged, deciding why not. Names would make me feel a bit better. But I was dreading my conversation with Rylie. I wasn't sure if she would hate me, or ever forgive me for not keeping our secret. But I remembered the reason I asked him to pick names with me in the first place, to clear my mind, "I liked Luke Cameron, and Monroe Rylie? Or is that too obvious?"

"Maybe a bit obvious... Monroe Rani?"

"Hmm Monroe Rylan?" I suggested, and the butterflies were back.

Michael smiled and kissed me. "Absolutely perfect." he announced, and I grinned again in agreement. Definitely perfect.

"I agree. Luke Cameron or Monroe Rylan. Their perfect."

"They are... Whichever our first is."

Whichever our first. And after a first came a second. And that would only mean that we would be together for a while, and that made me beam uncontrollably. I guess this was either another side effect of my mood swings, or this was love.

I shared a secret, that wasn't mine to tell. And I shared it without the intent of sharing it. But not it was out, and the line needed to be drawn. I guess I had to pick a side. Michael or Rylie. My sister or my soul? I should've kept the secret.


	14. Sisters

Sister. If you never had a sister, you would never know the bond. Because the things two sister's had, were things that couldn't be duplicated, replicated, imitated. Sisters had a connection, and a love so strong it would take years of pain to ware it down. Even when sister's fought, they still loved each other. The love made them do drastic things just because they were sisters. Im sure brothers had something going too, but nothing could duplicate, replicate, or imitate the bond between two girls.

Then there was us. The small population of twins. We were the lucky ones. Because we had an even less breakable bond. Twin sisters. Your twin sister, identical or not, was your best friend. You knew them inside and out. They could keep secrets, but not from you. And nothing...nothing would ever come between the friendship.

I prayed that this would hold to my theory. Taking a shaky breath which sounded more like a desperate gasp for air, I opened the door into the room my sister lived in. Michael hadn't changed his mind, and I was left to break my mistake to Rylie.

"Hey Blakey!" She looked up from her bed with a smile, "what's up?"

I frowned, making my way to her bed and sitting next to her. "Your not going to like this..." I start slowly. Real slowly. So she would get every syllable, take my warning, and decided to not be mad at me. I warned her I get brownie points for something right?

Rylie tried to sit straight up around her baby bump. In the comfort of her cabin, she took off the charm to disguise her pregnancy. But I however, was super insecure about it. I had only shown my growing tummy to Rylie once, and a few times to Michael.

But looking to her stomach, reminded me of any other thing that wouldn't happen without me. "I...maybe told Michael." I said to her gently waiting to see what she would say.

"Hasn't Michael known about your pregnancy all along?" she laughed, "I thought you told him weeks ago!"

"He knows your pregnant" I said softly avoiding eye contact.

"What?" Her voice was a soft whisper, low and dangerous. And I could feel the mixed emotions coming at me...they were all negative.

"I'm really sorry I told him. I know I wasn't supposed to but we were discussing names and you came up and then I had to explain. I know I'm sorry" I said quietly, knowing that whatever trust we had, I just dropped it and it broke. Sister's needed trust, it was a fundamental thing in their relationship. If I didn't have Rylie's trust, then what?

Rylie's eyes fluttered shut, and she seemed really would think it was obvious she would be mad, but she was Rylie. My sister was never mad at anyone. "And what did he say?"

I know shes mad. She has a right to be mad. But I knew she would never hate me for this right? "He wants you to tell Warner" I breathed out softly. I'm really ruining her life, trampling over it, for the good of mine. So selfish.

Rylie's eyes flashed open and I received a vivd glare. "And who's going to make me?" She asked in a voice that was certainly not hers. She doesn't get mad. She doesn't threaten. And she doesn't hold grudges.

I bit my lip, she was really really mad. "Michael...he said if you don't he will, tonight." I said barely above a whisper, hating myself for every word. Every word reminding me of breaking her trust.

"Oh really?"She started, "And what makes him think that I'll ever forgive him if he does?"

I shrugged in slow motion "Nothing? He said he has to be there for Warner"I said, feeling one of those times when Rylie was being the dominate twin, and I felt like the baby sister. I just wanted to shrivel up, hide under a rock, and be invisible.

Rylie raised her eyebrows a touch higher, "And what makes you feel like I'll EVER talk to you again if you let him?"

I shrugged again "Nothing? I begged him not to i'll ask him again but I mean..." I pause getting quieter "Warner kinda does deserve to know" I knew her point, and her good intentions. But he was going to be a father, he needed to know.

"You think I don't know that? You think that doesn't haunt me every day? But I can't believe you would be on his side in this... Just go. I don't want to see you." Her voice cracks and she points to the door, whispering, "I can't believe I ever did this for you." .

My heart sank. To the bottom of the ocean. And shattered into pieces. Of all of my messups, this would be my worst. Because Ryile and my relationship with each other was pretty much the most important thing to me. Our love was unduplicateable, unreplicateable, unimitateabe. Even if those wern't even words. She was never mad at me for anything. We were sisters. Twin sisters.

And now she pretty much hates me. I nodded, not saying anything else but leaving like she wanted. And beating myself up for ruining this too. Ruining our relationship, as far as I knew it. Ruining her relationship, she broke up with Warrner her boyfriend because of this. Ruining everything.

My more famous sister, Marylin Monroe, said "sisters were the best friends." It was true. Rylie was my best friend, always loyal. Always there for me. And now she said she didn't want to be there for me, regret it. And now I was afriad of losing a best friend.

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Hey guys! Hoped you liked it, or loved it. The next few chapters may get a little crazy pre-warning. After maybe 15, I'm thinking about continuing Blake's story in a sequel. Anyways I would love it you read and reviewed, I take everything you guys say and try to work on it. Also if you love my story, hit that fave button or follow it because there will be a lot of updates this week. Anyways love you all, thanks for reading. P.S. This chapter is dedicated to my sis...love ya!

xoxo Queenbee19


	15. Invisible

I just wanted to disappear. If no one could see me, no one could see how upset I was. I didn't want people seeing me upset. Few people could see me vulnerable. And Rylie's words still stung. "I can't believe I ever did this for you." I was hurt. And it could easily be shown in my face. And I jut hoped no one could see me. I hoped I was invisible.

But even if I was invisible, Michael still found a way to find me. "Are you alright?"

I looked up to my boyfriend, who's amber eyes showed concern. Michael had been good about making sure I was ok through this pregnancy. If I was sick, upset, or having another night, he would be there for me. Appointments, pains, he would support me. Luckily Rylie was there too, but was she going to be there for me anymore?

"No, not at all," I tell him miserably as if he couldn't tell just by the look on my face.

"What's wrong?" He asked me, but I knew he knew the answer. If I was sick or needed anything I would've went to him. He knew that he war the root of my emotions right he could tell my sensitivity was paper thin right now.

"She hates me now, seriously Mike she hates me! I mean like..." I sigh, feeling just about as terrible as I could for what I did. And letting my feelings pour out to him.

Michael looked at me, trying to pull my from my attempted at invisibility. Usually I was begging for attention. "I'm sure she doesn't HATE you!" He reassured,"Is she going to tell Warner?"

I bit my lip shaking a no. No. A word I usually said, but didn't receive. "And you can't tell him I'm serious, she'll never forgive me." I begged. I never begged, usually I got what I wanted by asking. Maybe that was another thing about us. He loved me, but he didn't do everything I wanted just because I asked.

He bit my lip, obviously feeling bad, "I'm sorry, Blake." It wasn't like he took pleasure in making me upset, but he always did what he thought was right.

"I'm serious please don't!" I pleaded again, " If you cared about me you wouldn't do this to me"I said quietly, appearing more hurt then I was. Yet. I knew I was playing that card. The 'if you cared about me' card. But I was desperate.

"You know I love you" he said to me with another comforting reassurance "But Blake! He deserves to know."

"But Mike! What about Rylie and I? She's my sister! She will NEVER forgive us. Is Warner more important to you then me? Because this is going to make me really upset," Now I was trying to make him chose. But I would try anything to stop him, because if he told Warner Rylie may never, ever speak to me again. I don't like to admit things, but I need her. And I would admit it every day if I had too.

"He'd never be more important, but me needs to know more than u need him not to know,"

"Not true, I need him to not know more then for him to know. Can't it just wait 5 months? I need Rylie's friendship right now more then almost anyones. I mean other then you who else?"

"No, Blake. I'm staying firm on this. He needs to know and he needs to know now."

I crossed my arms, forming a pout because I knew I had lost. People couldn't say no to me, but he could. I was desperate, but I wasn't going to charm speak him into not saying anything. Thats like controlling him. I had to accept...defeat. But what to expect from a child of Nike.

"Whatever, tell him. But when I'm upset because Rylie hates me and won't talk to me ever again and I'm crying and not eating and just plain depressed remember its your fault," I said, in a wimpy effort at the guilt trip.

Michael knew that he won, and hugged me close, "She'll learn to forgive."

"No, she won't. I can't keep screwing her over like this," I sigh. I can't keep ruining everything for her, and expecting her to be there for me. I was take take taking and asking her to give more.

"It's not your fault." He reassured, rubbing comforting circled on my back before stepping back. "I gotta go, Blake. But we'll talk later?"

I unhappily nodded, trying everything to make him feel bad. I just knew it wouldn't work. And as soon as he left I went right back to wishing I was invisible. No one would be able to see me, or my screw ups.


	16. Crystal

My vision was blurred. Fogged. Clouded up by my thoughts in a smokey mist making me feel weird feelings. I still was over standing outside, and right now I was sitting under a tree. The light shining through the crisp green leaves of nature that hung above me. Hung above me beside the lingering disappointment.

I just sat, watching everyone at camp around me do their own thing. Rylie talking to Jenna. A group of straggly boys walking to the arena, weapons slung around their backs. Athena kids in a heated debate over something probably stupid. And my boyfriend talking to Warner. Oh gods.

I could watch just his facial expressions and see how it was going. Warner was grinning, Michael looked almost uncomfortable. Warner stood their stunned, then his face looked pained, then confused. Michael looked to the ground. Warner rubbed his forehead. It looked like the normal "Your girlfriends pregnant and hasn't told you conversation." But then again I've never been in one.

I looked down at my feet, my pink toenails. And taking in the nauseating smell of nail polish. I took a deep breath, keeping myself from wanting to cry. I was sure now, that Rylie would hate me. Something in the back of my mind reminded me she loved me too much to do that, but I pushed it away. She would never forgive me. I put Michael before her, it was like breaking girl code. Sisters before misters, no matter how much you love them.

"RYLIE! YOU'VE BEEN PREGNANT AND HAVN't TOLD ME?!"

Oh freaking gods I did not just hear that. I looked up startled, seeing a more then angry Warner walking towards my sister. Warner, a clean cut golden boy that upset? Rylie would never get over this. I had a bad feeling in my stomach, and it wasn't from the headache my freshly painted toenails were giving me.

The entire camp was silent, looking at Rylie. And then Warner. Then Rylie again. It was like a tennis match of death.

"What?" Rylie whispered, her voice so quiet and almost fragile.

Warner lowered his voice, but I was still close enough to hear, everyone already knew no point in being quiet now. "Rylie? Did you or did you not get pregnant and not tell me?"

Rylie stayed silent, blushing a deep pink. "Gods Rylie why? Why didn't you tell me, how long has it been 5 months?"

Rylie looked away, "I didn't want you to deal with my choices... You deserve better than this."

Warner looked to her stomach, that looked less then pregnant. It was covered by the charm that hid our bump. "That?" He looked at her seriously, "Look I still care about you, and our baby. We don't have to be together but I want a part of its life,"

Rylie killed the charm, letting her belly swell to its real size. Smaller then mine, but definitely pregnant."You don't really want this! I don't deserve you... Nobody will blame you if you walk away. You should walk away!"

Warner rubbded his forehead "Look I'm still here, I'm not going to walk away and leave you. I want to be there for you and our baby. I want to help." he took Rylie's hand and I felt so terrible. This was really really my fault. If only I would've been more careful...

Rylie pulled her hand back, "No Warner! Stop being so nice to me! I've done nothing for you!"

"Your right, you havn't done a single thing for me at all. But that doesn't mean I have to be a d**k about it, do you want me to not help?"

The circle around Rylie got larger, and I got up from my shady spot under the tree. I began to sneak to the center, weaving around the people with the occasional mumble of excuse me.

When I got to the front of the crowd, Rylie looked awful. She just looked so pained by what she was doing, but convinced she had to. And Warner looked frustrated, I missed what had happened.

"Fine." Rylie whispered at him, eyes welling up. And with a sigh Warner seemed to lead himself out of the circle coming the way opposite from me. Rylie was left in the center of attention, surrounded by campers. Campers who were going to ask questions, one's she wouldn't want to answer. I knew she was mad at me, but the least i could do was stick up for her a little bit.

I mean she got pregnant just so I wouldn't feel bad when camp found out I was pregnant. But now everyone only knew about her, and she was going to have to face them alone. She wouldn't let me face it alone i wouldn't let her.

"I'm more pregnant! I was pregnant first!" I announced, and the attention turned right to me. I wouldn't call myself the more popular twin, but maybe I was. But announcing my pregnancy wasn't so bad, it was almost like a competition and I had gotten pregnant first. Maybe it was no achievement, but I would pretend it was.

Rylie looked up at me, confused. "What?" she laughed through her tears.

"Its true, I was pregnant like a month before Rylie" I said letting it be known to the confused glances

Rylie laughed before encompassing her arms around me, "That's right everyone, be jealous. She was pregnant first."

I smiled, everything was always a competition to me. And it did feel better that everyone knew I was pregnant first. One thing I had done before Rylie. I hugged Rylie back, "Yes, be very very jealous" I told everyone in a jokingly warning tone.

It was no longer blurred. I could see everything clearly. I mean even know Rylie was mad at me, and probably still was mad at me, we were sisters. Best friends. And we got over things. And we may be mad, but in any time we would be standing right there for each other. Always there for each other.

Everything was crystal clear. Crystals. Beautiful sparkling glimmering crystals. That was us, Rylie and I. Beautiful and sparkly and glittery. But sometimes crystals get fogged. It doesn't make them less valuable, less beautiful. All it needs is a polish. And that would make all the difference. It was crystal clear, no matter how bad I messed up I would still be there for my sister, and she would be there for me.

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Hey guys ,if you have been following along then you probably already read this chapter. Just so you know, I spilt Chapter 12 into two different chapters, moving everything up. If you want to read the now broken up chapters of Snowball and Secrets I would love it. Anyways thanks again for reading, and reviewing.

xoxo Queenbee19


	17. Paradise

I try. I try to smile, all of the time. I try to be the girl I should be, that girl that I want to be. That girl that is so flawless people turn to look at her in awe when she walks, not jealously. That girl who is so beautiful people can't help but wanting to get to know her. That girl who is so perfect, that her life is a blissful paradise. Nothing ever goes wrong. But sometimes trying isn't enough.

23 weeks pregnant, and its been rough. Snow has sprinkled the camp grounds, and the smell of Christmas fills camp. Most of the campers have already gone home, to spend time with their families. Michael usually heads home around this time, but this year we're spending Christmas together.

Monroe can hear my voice. Monroe Rylan Grace. I'm having a daughter, as far as I know. And she will be perfect. Beautiful by her first name. Compassionate by her middle. While Grace, is Michael's last name. And like him, she will be smart, and loving, and a wonderful person. I can play music for her, and she sometimes responds. Sometimes when its late at night and I play soft music, Monroe will stop moving so much. I swear she even lets out a tiny yawn. And then I know my daughter's soundly sleeping.

She can listen to my heartbeat. The soft thumping filling her soft ears. And I have heard hers. Her sweet soft heartbeat. Its melody calming me like a lullaby. The first time I heard it, weeks ago with Michael, I almost cried. Because it had hit me what I did, what we did. We created life. We created something perfect, sweet, innocent. And even know I haven't met her yet, I cannot describe the love I feel for my daughter. Already I know she is everything I am, everything I'm not, and everything I want to be. I love her. And I remind her in a soft whisper every night before I fall asleep.

So even know I'm not that girl, the flawless beautiful perfect girl. I'm happy. Because when you think about it one of my flaws made Monroe. And she will be beautiful. And my life is starting to fall into place. And maybe even one day I will be able to call it perfect. I've just decided, that once Monroe is born, everything _will_ be perfect. Because I will have everything I'd ever really wanted. Love that lasts forever. And perfection, without being perfect. My life will be a blissful paradise, and I will be happy,

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Hope you loved it! If you did check out Promises about my other OC Tess. Anyways should also read my sister story Broken by Can'tBeatCandor. This story wouldn't be possible without her! Thanks for reading,

xoxo Queenbee19


	18. Perfect

Its not fair. Life's never fair, you learn that at a young age. When you have a group of friends over and your mom makes you take turns. And when she makes cookies and theres an odd number, and she gives your friend the extra cookie instead of you. Or when your older brother gets to stay up later at night, just because he's a year older.

Nothings ever fair. And why am I bringing this up? Because even between twins, things aren't fair.

Everyone loves Rylie. She's the pretty twin, the smart twin. You know how I wanted to be the prettiest, the smartest and the strongest? All of those are Rylie. Rylie's perfect. She is, and she always will be. And there's nothing I can do accept bow down to the group of Rylie lovers.

Rylie is like a flower. She's so dainty and beautiful, with her crystal water eyes and her soft blonde hair. I wish I looked like her. Because I may be "hot", but she is classically beautiful.

And Rylie does nothing wrong. Rylie could murder someone and you know what, everyone would still feel sorry for her. Because she's Rylie. People would probably think Rylie murdered the person to like save someone else's life, or she murdered someone because they were a terrioist or something. Actually, people would just blame it on me. No one could belive that Rylie would do something like that, but Blake would.

Because I'm the mean twin. No one really likes Blake. I'm the sarcastic twin, the ditzy twin. I always wanted to be the prettiest, the smartest, and the strongest. But I will never be. I'll be the hottest, the meanest, and the badest. I could probably make myself her evil twin if I wanted to go that far. Theres nothing I can do accept except the band of Blake hatters.

I guess why I'm bringing this up, is because I've been taking a lot of heat lately. I've been feeling guilty for things that I shouldn't. And before Monroe comes into this world, my soul needs a little cleansing.

I DID NOT ask Rylie to get pregnant. Never did I ask her, or even bring up the idea. I would never ever want to put her though it. Rylie INSISTED on supporting me. And I could say that it was my fault for letting her, but it wasn't. Rylie makes her own choices, and I made mine. I made the choice not to remember the condom, and I got pregnant. NOT Rylie. And I would have to live with the consequences NOT Rylie.

Rylie's love life being destroyed is NOT my fault. I didn't make her break up with Warner, she did it herself. I never told her to, never advised it. I let her make her own choice. I could've told him myself yes, but its HER LIFE. Not mine.

Warner's life is not ruined because of me. RYLIE did it. Rylie broke up with him. Rylie won't let him be apart of the child's life. I didn't even tell him MICHAEL did. But I could say that its my fault for telling him, but I have every right to not keep secrets from my boyfriend. If I want trust and honesty from him, I needed to give it on my end. Its a two way street.

And as much as I've gotten heat for what happened, its NOT MY FAULT. I can't keep blaming myself for being imperfect, everytime Rylie does something wrong. I can't blame myself for Rylie's mistakes. It's HER LIFE. All I can do is be there for her, love and support her. All I can do is try. All I can do is love her.

Life's not fair, because no matter what I do I will always be blamed for Rylie. No matter what happens if I do something wrong, it's my fault. But if Rylie does something wrong its no one's fault, or mine. And to be honest, the pregnancy was not even all my fault. Michael forgot the condom, which was his responsibility. He told me he wanted the night to be special, he should've been prepared. I should've checked. But seriously, it was more his fault then mine. It was 70/30.

I need to stop blaming myself for everything. Because I was already getting blamed by everyone else. I will never be the nice twin. I will never be the pretty twin. Or the smart twin or the strong twin. But I will be Blake. And love me or hate me thats what you get. And I may never be perfect, but perfect by definition is without faults. And a fault is when you do something wrong. But everyone does something wrong, so no one's perfect. Not even Rylie.

And I just decided, that I knew what perfection is. I know what perfection is. To be perfect is to accept it. To be perfect is to be ok with it. To be perfect, is to take every single damn thing you've ever done wrong, and decide ITS OK. Perfection, is loving imperfection.

I might be imperfect, but I'm perfect.

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I hope you liked the conclusion to Perfection. Anyways, that was it. 18 Chapters, for Blake's 18 years on Earth. The sequel will be out soon, and the title has yet to be released. In the mean-time leave a review for this story, tell me if you liked it. And be super pumped for the sequel, babies will be born, drama will arise, and Blake and Michael will go through another test in their relationship. What it is? I cannot say. But you should totally be pumped to read the sequel. Leave a review, I may not post the sequel till I get enough reviews on this one. _And _if you love Blakey as much as I do, and your still waiting for my next story, Blake makes a cameo appearance in **LilacDusts's Elusive**, and she also is in **Can'tBeatCandor's Broken and Graceless**. And mentioned in my other story** Army Guard** about Rylie's boyfriend Warner. Anyways I would appreciate it if you checked those stories out their amazing!

xoxo Queenbee19


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